


a year in the life

by allthebees (jamtomorrowandjamyesterday)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Chris and Derek are oblivious, Domesticity, F/F, F/M, Fluff and silliness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Monster of the Week, Multi, Shenanigans, Until they aren't, a bit of angst and drama, alpha!Derek, canon-divergence to a fictional happy place post S2, pack and family feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 05:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2337428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamtomorrowandjamyesterday/pseuds/allthebees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things are as close to normal as they’re ever going to get for the Hale pack, after everything they’ve all been through in the last couple of years, when Cora starts noticing something weird going on between her brother and Chris Argent at the beginning of senior year. As if that weren’t enough of a problem it isn’t long before the odd monster here and there turns into a coven of witches who roll into town, decide to kick the werewolves’ den, and very nearly ruin everything.</p><p>Or: snapshots of a year in the life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a year in the life

**Author's Note:**

> So I got an amazingly detailed and thought-out assignment sheet for this exchange with so many incredible prompts on it but after a bunch of false starts with only a few weeks to go I just picked out a couple of pairings and things from the sheet and this happened. Crazy amounts of thanks to the mods for running such an amazing exchange and for the beta and cheerleading by thewhippinghand who is the only reason this is anything approaching a coherent story.
> 
> Nothing recognisable is mine.

**August 2012  
**  
“You have to admit, horrifying at the time or not, compared to last year and the year before this is _borin_ -”  
  
Lydia slaps a hand over Stiles’ mouth and smiles pleasantly. “If you finish that sentence and tempt fate into sending something that will threaten my GPA to attack us, Stiles, I swear to God I will tell Cora that you tried something with me.” Stiles’ eyes go wide with incredulous horror. “You know she’s been just waiting for a reason.”  
  
She lets that sink in for a few seconds, watching his face slowly drain of blood and his eyes widen even more, before removing her hand and rummaging in her bag for the small bottle of hand sanitiser she keeps for occasions like this. Stiles swallows audibly and rubs at his mouth before frowning at her.  
  
“Of all the werewolves there are to choose from in this town,” he mutters. “You had to pick the one who is almost another you.”  
  
Lydia squeezes a dollop of sanitiser onto her palm and rubs them together, enjoying the sharp smell of it, with another smile. “Birds of a feather.” She turns on her heel and starts down the hall. “Don’t be late for English! I won’t save you a seat.”  
  
~  
  
“So, I’m thinking a couple hours at the mall and then we can watch those episodes of Mythbusters on the DVR over dinner?” Lydia says as Cora leans against the locker next to hers. She stacks her books carefully and pushes them into place.  
  
“Derek wants to go out for burgers and hear about my first day,” Cora says. “He looked pathetically hopeful, and we’re going the next county over so you know the burgers are gonna be good, and I couldn’t say no when he offered to pick me up. Mythbusters over dinner sounds good though, I could probably be there by seven?”  
  
“You’d never say no to burgers anyway. Tell him he’s going to lose his reputation if he keeps that kind of sentimentality up,” Lydia says and presses a kiss to Cora’s cheek as she closes her locker. “I’ll expect you no later than seven.”  
  
Cora slings an arm around her waist. “Mythbusters wait for no one, Derek included,” she agrees.  
  
“You’re sickening,” Stiles says from behind them as he narrowly avoids an open locker door and scowling junior. “Like literally, though, there should be laws against it because how are the rest of us supposed to deal with all the crushed hopes, dreams and self-esteem?”  
  
“Not our problem,” Lydia says as two freshman boys plaster themselves flat against their lockers to let them pass. Cora hums in agreement.  
  
Allison, Scott and Isaac join them at the intersection of the next hallway.  
  
“Cora and Lydia are ruining my life,” Stiles announces, still lagging behind a little, and Allison and Isaac roll their eyes almost in sync.  
  
Scott claps him on the shoulder while Allison ducks around to walk on Lydia’s other side. “It’s okay, dude, we have first day of school Halo marathon,” he says. “That always works.”  
  
“I’m gonna kick both your asses,” Isaac says.  
  
“Scarves aren’t allowed in the Jeep,” Stiles retorts. “Oh, sorry, looks like you’re walking.”  
  
“Thank god I have to go shooting with Dad,” Allison says under her breath.  
  
“First day of school tradition?” Cora asks, craning her head around Lydia a little. “Derek wants to take me for burgers. I thought it was just him being weird.”  
  
“Dad and I do it every year,” Allison says with a shrug.  
  
“You both better be free tomorrow.” Lydia leans further into Cora as they reach the doors with Isaac and Stiles still bickering while Scott fails to play peacemaker. “I demand your presence for pretzels and facials.”  
  
“Did I hear pretzels and facials?” Erica’s voice drifts in as she and Boyd push off the side of the building near the doors to join the group. There’s a faint note of uncertainty in her voice and Cora nudges Lydia as a reminder to play nice as both her and Allison’s steps falter slightly.  
  
Isaac immediately tries to recruit Boyd to his cause and Stiles launches into a tirade about unhealthy obsessions.  
  
“Facials, really? The things I do-” Cora trails off the second her eyes find the Camaro in the parking lot.  
  
Chris Argent’s SUV is parked right next to it, closer than Derek ever lets any other vehicle, and Derek _isn’t_ ripping his throat out with his teeth. Cora blinks, just to make sure she’s not imagining things, because Derek is leaning against his passenger side door and actually talking to the older man.  
  
Allison’s eyes are narrowed at the spectacle as well and Cora tugs Lydia forward in her hurry, cutting off her reply to Erica about the following afternoon, to cross the parking lot. “I’ll see you at seven,” she says, distracted by the fact that there is an easy grin on Chris’ face, and lets her arm fall from Lydia’s waist when she catches sight of her brother’s slight smirk. Lydia says something but Cora doesn’t catch it.  
  
Derek glances up when she’s only a few yards away and the smirk turns into an expression of concern. “Cora? You okay?”  
  
“Fine,” she says shortly. “Burgers, right? Let’s go.”  
  
Derek looks a little bewildered but he nods at Chris, waving a hand slightly in acknowledgement of the others who are lagging behind, and circles the car to slide back into the driver’s seat.  
  
Cora looks at Chris intently as she gets into the car too and thinks that there’s something fake about the confusion on his face. She bares her teeth a little in an overly friendly smile and he looks away quickly. Satisfaction blooms in her gut and she waves distractedly at the others as she closes the door.  
  
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Derek asks when they’re pulling out of the parking lot. “Was school bad?”  
  
“School was fine,” she says and looks at him sideways. “You looked awfully friendly with Argent back there.”  
  
The furrow between his eyebrows is visible even in profile and Cora can’t hear any nervous upticks in his heartbeat. “We were talking about that omega from last month, Cora.” Cora had forgotten about that. “We’re both responsible for the safety of the town so we have to be on decent terms. Are you sure you’re okay?” The furrow deepens further and he darts a glance at her. “Did something happen with Allison?”  
  
“I can handle Allison,” she says. “Just make sure you keep your guard up with him.”  
  
Derek looks concerned when he looks at her again before returning his attention to the road. “Okay.”  
  
~  
  
Cora arrives at Lydia’s at six minutes past seven and doesn’t even let the other girl get out the rebuke for being late.  
  
“Lydia,” she says seriously. “There is something going on with Chris Argent and Derek.”  
  
Lydia closes her mouth in surprise and her hand falls from where it was braced against the doorframe. “I-” She frowns. “That is not something I was prepared for you to say. I said seven. You’re late.”  
  
Cora grabs her arm and pulls her into the house and towards the stairs. “I was thinking about it the entire time we were out. I don’t even remember what was in my burger. Did you see them this afternoon?” She sounds frantic and Lydia barely manages to keep her balance as Cora takes the top three stairs in one step. “Argent was smiling and Derek had that dumb smirk he does when he wants to smile. This is not okay.”  
  
Lydia is too confused to protest at the forceful handling. “And this is a problem how?” she asks as Cora shuts the bedroom door behind them and turns wide eyes on her. “They’ve progressed from trying to kill each other to smiling and conversing like real people. I call that improvement.”  
  
“You need to tell Allison,” Cora says decisively and Lydia is fairly sure she isn’t listening to her at all. “You need to tell her to tell her father to leave Derek alone.”  
  
Lydia grabs Cora’s chin in her hand and holds it there. “Breathe. Now. Before I spray you in the face with water like I used to have to do to Prada.”  
  
Cora blinks and they stare at each other for a moment. Lydia thinks that there is something alarming about the fact that she can still be surprised by the propensity of the average werewolf for hysteria.  
  
“Did you really just threaten to spray me in the face with water?” Cora asks as she jerks her chin out of Lydia’s face with a dangerous glint in her eye.  
  
Lydia takes a step back, ignoring the way Cora’s mouth lifts at the corners when she hears her heart skip a beat, and lifts her chin. “And what if I did?”  
  
The dangerous glint is slowly swallowed by the gold that bleeds into her irises and the grin that spreads over her face does some unsettling things to Lydia’s insides even now. She musters her resolve, takes a bold step forward, and Cora’s fingers settle easily in the curve of her waist.  
  
There’s barely an inch between their noses when Cora licks her lips and flashes her eyes from gold to hazel and back again. Lydia exhales impatiently and closes the distance herself.  
  
An hour later their dinner is cold where Lydia left it on the kitchen island and Cora has forgotten all about Chris Argent’s nefarious plans for her brother.  
  
~  
  
“We can take over the break room,” John says when he comes out of his office on Friday night and finds Derek and Melissa by the reception desk. “Chris is bringing pizza.”  
  
“He’s just pulling in now. I told you we could have used the apartment,” Derek says. “They’re all at the bowling alley and homemade pizza is better for you anyway.”  
  
John narrows his eyes. “Not a word to Stiles, Hale. Not a word.”  
  
Melissa pushes between them to get into the room and take the best seat. “We aren’t using the apartment because there are lots of superpowered noses around who would ask questions and be less than pleased to know we’re having weekly meetings about them,” she reminds them both as Derek takes the seat to her left, nose lifted slightly, and John pushes the one on her right closer to the table. “But next time we aren’t having takeout. I am all for Derek cooking.”  
  
“Aye,” Chris says from the doorway, hefting the pizza boxes in his arms, and John hurries to take the food from him. “You’ve got my vote too.”  
  
Derek rolls his eyes and leans back in his seat. “You’re all as bad as your children,” he says as John piles three slices of meatlovers onto a paper plate and pulls it towards himself. Melissa leans over to the box and snags a couple of slices for her own plate. Chris takes the seat beside Derek, sliding the meatlovers’ box closer to them, and Derek puts a slice on both of their plates.  
  
The room is filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional request for a napkin or a particular slice, as the four eat their way through the pizzas.  
  
“Anything to report?” John asks when there’s nothing left in the boxes except stray toppings. “Nothing supernaturally weird has come across my desk this week.”  
  
“All the bizarre ER admissions I’ve noticed can be blamed on human stupidity,” Melissa agrees and reaches for her can of soda. “It’s a nice change of pace.”  
  
“Grapevine’s all clear on my end too,” Chris confirms and wipes his fingers with a napkin. “Although, Derek, you might want to have a talk to Isaac and Scott about stealth. Using the window instead of the door is all well and great but if I hear them breaking stuff in the bathroom then it defeats the purpose.”  
  
Derek sighs as Melissa and John start laughing. “We’re working on it.”  
  
 **September 2012**  
  
“You have a test tomorrow that I know you haven’t studied for,” Derek reminds a sullen looking Isaac when they’re all ready to go and deal with the recent pixie infestation in the Preserve. “So you’re staying here.”  
  
Melissa makes a sound of approval. “You have that same test, Scott,” she says. Scott looks at her, wide eyed and wounded, and she crosses her arms over her chest. “Don’t even try me.” He shares a disgruntled look with Isaac instead.  
  
“What class?” John asks, narrowed eyes fixed on Stiles. “Wouldn’t happen to be biology, would it?”  
  
“Yes,” Derek says. Isaac’s expression brightens as Stiles’ jaw drops, face twisting in betrayal, and Scott looks between the two of them.  
  
“I’ve got a shift starting in an hour,” Melissa says with a glance at the clock. “Who’s volunteering for supervision duty?”  
  
“I hate pixies,” Cora says quietly to Lydia. “Want to ruin Stiles’ life some more?”  
  
“We’ll do it,” Lydia says brightly.  
  
“Who else is in that biology class?” Chris asks.  
  
“I studied,” Erica says promptly. “So I’m all good.” Boyd nods in agreement. Isaac and Scott’s faces fall further when their hearts don’t stutter over a lie.  
  
Derek glances sideways at Chris. “Alright, so Allison, Boyd and Erica are with Chris and I,” he says. “Should be plenty.”  
  
“This is bullshit,” Stiles mutters under his breath.  
  
Cora sidles up to him and slings an arm around his shoulder. “We’re gonna have so much fun,” she says cheerfully.  
  
Stiles throws her arm off and stumbles to Scott’s other side. “Be nice, Cora,” Derek says but the warning is half-hearted and Stiles glares at all of them.  
  
John shakes his head in resignation. “Lydia, you’re gonna have your hands full tonight,” he says. “Call me if you need anything.”  
  
Lydia smiles. “Oh, we’ll manage, Sheriff.”  
  
~  
  
“I would rather be fighting pixies than doing this,” Scott says. He’s staring at the same page he’s been reading for ten minutes.  
  
“Eyes on your textbook,” Lydia says from the sofa. Cora is stretched out over her lap, feet dangling over the far arm, and they’re watching a documentary on Australian wildlife. “If you think I’m not going to test you at the end of the chapter then you’re going to be really disappointed.”  
  
“We hate you both,” Stiles says and Cora snorts. “No, really. How is it fair that we’re stuck here while the others get to deal with pixies?”  
  
“For once I agree with Stiles,” Isaac says and he does not sound impressed about it. “Why didn’t you want to be out there with everyone?”  
  
“They’ll be able to handle it. Pixies are assholes but not in the whole murdering way,” Cora says, stretching lazily, and pushes her head against Lydia’s stomach. Lydia doesn’t look away from the television, watching intently as a snake rears up and lunges towards the cameraperson, but puts her hand in Cora’s hair and rubs with her fingertips. Stiles flails in their general direction with a frustrated expression. “We had a problem with them once when I was a kid. Tried negotiating but they laughed in my mom’s face and stuck Laura at the top of a thirty foot tree.” She snickers. “Helped her down too.”  
  
“If they laughed in your mother’s face then should we be worried about what they’re going to do to your brother?” Lydia asks, still not looking away from the television, and Scott makes a worried sound.  
  
“Allison and Chris are humans, are they going to be okay?” Isaac asks. He sounds unconvinced. “A thirty foot fall sounds bad even for one of us.”  
  
“If they’re gonna go for any of them it would be Derek,” Stiles says, still glaring, and tilts his head in thought. “Or maybe Erica. Whichever of them threatens to eat one of the pixies first.”  
  
“Eat one?” Scott asks in horror. “Would they really-”  
  
“Derek’d know better than that,” Cora says absently. Her eyes are focused on where an ugly looking fish is separating itself from a rock underwater. “They’d be stringy as hell. Floss and fangs aren’t a good mix.”  
  
“Allison and Chris are sensible,” Lydia says. “Everything should be fine. Are you done with the genetics unit yet?”  
  
“If you are responsible for me not being there to see Derek get dragged to the top of a tree by pixies and then dropped I am never going to forgive you,” Stiles says.  
  
“I’m going to tell Derek you said that,” Isaac says and Stiles throws his textbook at him.  
  
Two minutes later Stiles is sprawled at the coffee table in Cora and Lydia’s direct line of sight, Isaac and Scott still at the dining table, and Lydia has switched the subtitles on to prevent distraction.  
  
Cora stretches out over the sofa again and grins up at Lydia before tugging her face down for a long kiss. Isaac and Scott make gagging noises and Stiles makes a strangled sound of protest. Lydia breaks the kiss to turn her head towards Isaac and Scott, says “twenty minutes and I’m quizzing you,” and Cora flips Stiles off then they both look back to the documentary.  
  
~  
  
“Take the Camaro,” Derek says and spits onto the ground unhappily. His mouth tastes of dirt and Allison and Erica are still looking at him like they want to laugh but can’t quite bring themselves to. He tosses the keys to Boyd in a passive attempt at retribution. Erica’s expression turns mournful. “I’ll walk.”  
  
Boyd nods once and heads for the car. Erica follows after a beseeching look at Derek that he ignores. Allison looks at Chris in question and he tosses her the keys to the Mazda. “Take it to the apartment and leave it there,” he says. “I’m going to walk with Derek. Get Scott or Stiles to drop you home.”  
  
She catches the keys easily, something inscrutable in the way she looks at Chris, before waving a hand at Boyd and Erica as she gets into the car.  
  
Derek sets a course for town and Chris falls into step beside him as the cars’ taillights fade away between the trees.  
  
“You alright?” Chris asks after a couple minutes of companionable silence.  
  
Derek nods, exhales through his nose, and stops to spit. “I hate pixies,” he says and Chris laughs.  
  
“There was less bloodshed than I expected,” he admits and waits for Derek to start walking again. “You regrouped well.”  
  
Derek blinks at him. “They dropped me out of a tree,” he says. “Are you being sarcastic?”

“No,” Chris says but his lips are twitching. “I was prepared for a more violent response when they said they rather liked it here and didn't feel like leaving. I had my bet on there being claws out at least.”  
  
Derek scowls. “That would have been just what they wanted.” He hates pixies so much. “I would have ended up with a lot worse than dirt."  
  
Chris leans in and bumps their shoulders together with an amused sound. Derek startles and Chris just keeps walking. The flush that heats up Derek's cheeks under the dirt is sudden and confusing.  
  
~  
  
Lydia opens the text that makes her phone buzz at 10:19am, unnerved by the fact that she's receiving a text from Cora before noon on a Sunday, and reads it quickly.  
  
 _Chris Argent and Derek are having coffee in the kitchen rn Lydia what do I do??_  
  
She reads the message again and sighs. "This is going to be a thing, isn't it?"  
  
 _Go back to sleep perhaps?_ She types.  
  
Cora's reply is almost instant.  
  
 _Not a nightmare I already checked_  
  
Lydia rolls her eyes. Werewolves.  
  
 _Come over then, I'm sure I can get your mind off it._  
  
Ten minutes later Cora is crawling through her window in a tank top and the ratty green banana patterned pyjama pants that Lydia absolutely hates. "You are not getting in my bed with those things on." She takes great pleasure in Cora's disgruntled expression. The other girl would never admit to pouting but that is exactly what it is.  
  
Cora solves the problem by letting the awful pyjamas fall to the ground and Lydia rewards her by lifting the blanket in invitation.  
  
She is _all_ for rewarding creative problem solving that doesn’t involve bloodshed or fangs.  
  
~  
  
“And where might you be going?” Erica asks when Derek comes down the stairs and grabs his jacket off the back of the sofa where they’re all sitting.  
  
Cora twists and pins her brother with a curious look. He’s dressed normally, dark jeans and a moss-coloured Henley, and there’s nothing unusual about his hair. It looks like he might have even used less product than normal. “Yeah, Derek,” she echoes. “Where are you going?”  
  
He raises an eyebrow at all of them and Lydia forcibly turns Cora’s head back towards the television where _The Notebook_ is playing. “Why don’t we let the alpha do what he wants and watch my movie?” she says pleasantly. “I didn’t say we could take a break from studying to interrogate Derek.”  
  
“Listen to Lydia,” Derek says, equally as pleasant, while Erica mutters something about that not being any fun. He smiles and Cora frowns. She keeps telling him that he looks like a serial killer when he does that. “There’s bolognaise in the fridge.”  
  
“He looks like a serial killer when he smiles like that,” Allison says after the door has closed behind him and they’re all looking at the television again.  
  
Cora bites back her agreement and gears up to defend Derek. It doesn’t sound the same when someone else says it.  
  
“Be nice or I’m skipping back to the beginning,” Lydia says without looking at either of them and Cora deflates. Erica stretches out and tries to go for the remote but Lydia slides it under her own thigh smoothly.  
  
Allison and Cora sigh in unison and then look at each other suspiciously. Lydia pointedly turns the volume up and says “Get over the fact that they’re friends and _watch_.”  
  
Allison doesn’t look happy about it but she listens to Lydia. Cora scrambles to her feet and across the apartment to grab her phone from the counter.  
  
“Allison, ignore her,” Lydia says and there is an edge to her voice that Cora would be slightly worried about if she weren’t so distracted.  
  
Derek picks up on the fourth ring. “Cora?” He sounds worried. “Are you oka-”  
  
“Are you hanging out with Chris Argent?” she says loudly and Allison is perched on the sofa and looking at her intently when she looks back towards the living area.  
  
Derek hangs up on her and she growls unhappily.  
  
~  
  
The rest of the pack crash the apartment on the morning of Isaac’s birthday. Melissa stumbles in behind them with a bleary-eyed look that says she’s just come off a night shift.  
  
“Happy birthday Isaac!” Cora shouts.  
  
Isaac jolts awake with a startled yelp from where he’d been napping on the sofa and ends up in a heap on the ground.  
  
Derek slides a cup of coffee along the kitchen counter towards Melissa without looking away from the bowl of batter he’s dropping berries into. She climbs onto one of the stools and almost inhales the first mouthful.  
  
“Hnnngh,” Isaac says and blinks at the others. Cora yanks him back up onto the sofa and Stiles dumps an enormous gift box on his lap with a gleeful expression.  
  
“This is from Erica and me!”  
  
Isaac looks up at him suspiciously and Stiles beams. Erica bounces on her toes a little. Derek narrows his eyes, wary, and takes a sip of his own coffee. Melissa rubs her eyes and watches as Isaac unties the ribbon and takes the lid off the box. There is an eye-searing array of bright fabric in the box and Isaac makes a vague noise of alarm as he stares down at it.  
  
Erica and Stiles look ridiculously proud of themselves.  
  
Lydia and Allison dart forward and put the lid of the box back on.  
  
“Was that every scarf in Beacon Hills?” Cora asks blankly.  
  
Stiles puffs his chest out and Erica nods enthusiastically. “Now you have one for every occasion!”  
  
“Uh, happy birthday!” Scott says and his eyes are still wide as he puts a messily wrapped package on top of the box. “This is from my mom too. We didn’t get you a scarf.” Melissa offers a wave and smile.  
  
“Neither did I,” Allison says and leans forward to put a smaller, neatly wrapped box next to Scott’s. “Dad says happy birthday too.”  
  
“Cora and I are taking you shopping tomorrow,” Lydia says and wanders over towards the counter and the smell of coffee and food. “Happy birthday.”  
  
Boyd drops a card on the pile stacked on Isaac’s lap and nods at him before following Lydia towards the kitchen.  
  
~  
  
“Derek,” Cora says, stopping in the middle of the apartment, when she’s on her way out to school at the end of September.

  
He glances up at her from where he’s reading the newspaper by the window and lifts an eyebrow in acknowledgement. “Yeah?”  
  
“You and Chris Argent have been spending a lot of time together,” she says and listens very carefully to his heartbeat. It stays mostly steady, to her surprise, and she tilts her head a little. “It’s pretty weird. Is there anything you want to tell me?”  
  
Both of his eyebrows do more at expressing his disbelief than the rest of his face. “Cora, you’re the only one being weird here.” His heartbeat doesn’t falter and she narrows her eyes.  
  
“You two are close.” She decides to approach it from a different angle. “I didn’t really pay attention at first but now I’m noticing. Is this a new thing?” She smiles but it comes out more like a grimace and she lets it fall from her face when Derek frowns at her in concern. “I’m just saying that you could have other friends. Better friends.”  
  
The concern fades and he rolls his eyes, leaving the newspaper on the arm of his chair as he gets up, before crossing the room and patting her shoulder on his way to the stairs. “My social life is far from your concern, Cora, and you’re going to be late for school. There’s leftover meatloaf in the fridge for you.”  
  
She files away the lack of denial as she goes to the fridge and resolves to keep a closer eye on her brother and the older hunter. The container of meatloaf is on the top shelf and she hums happily as she shoves it in her bag.  
  
Allison is standing by Lydia’s locker when Cora gets to school and the sight of her knocks Cora back to her senses. “We need to talk,” Cora says as she leans in to press a kiss hello to Lydia’s cheek and Allison’s eyebrows raise in question.  
  
Lydia sighs.  
  
 **October 2012**  
  
Cora wouldn’t say that she and Allison are _friends_ but after a couple of weeks gathering evidence of the unsettling friendship blooming between Chris and Derek they are definitely cooperating enough to alarm the rest of the pack.  
  
“You know, I depend on your animosity,” Stiles tells them during lunch on the first Tuesday of October. “With all the crazy shit that goes down here there are things, constant and reliable things in fact, that should not change. The two of you sniping, okay, pun definitely _not_ intended there but roll with it, at each other is one of those things.”  
  
Allison smiles. Cora blinks. Stiles narrows his eyes and turns towards Scott for support. Scott knows exactly what that particular display of dimples means on Allison and just smiles back, big and bright. “I’m so glad you guys have found some common interests!”  
  
Stiles makes an outraged sound and stomps off with his lunch tray.  
  
Allison’s smile gains a wicked edge. “I see why you like messing with him,” she says to Cora.  
  
~  
  
“So, it’s Scott’s birthday on the 6 th,” Melissa says when they meet on Wednesday night for dinner. “Saturday night.”  
  
John nods absently at her, still poking at the broccoli in the macaroni bake Chris had made for dinner, and gestures with his fork. “Are we doing the usual?”  
  
“Are you going to eat your food or play with it?” Chris asks him. “I told you that there’s four different kinds of cheeses. There’s even bacon in it. That cancels out the greens.”  
  
Derek looks up at her with a forkful of his own macaroni almost to his mouth. “What’s the usual?” he asks and then nods at John. “It’s good, honestly.”  
  
John looks at him doubtfully but takes a bite.  
  
“I’m thinking we just do a dinner at home this year,” Melissa says and narrows her eyes at John as he chews. “There will be a few too many to take out like we normally do. I’ll just make his favourites and let them trash the living room instead of a restaurant.”  
  
“Do you need us to bring anything?” Chris asks. He and Derek are watching John for his reaction to the food as well.  
  
“That is good,” John admits after he’s swallowed his mouthful. “Do you want me to get that blackforest cake he likes again?”  
  
“I can make blackforest cake,” Derek says suddenly and then looks down at his plate, busying himself with spearing another forkful of macaroni and putting it in his mouth. Melissa has a soft expression on her face and John looks a little taken aback.  
  
“Birthday cakes should be homemade,” Chris agrees, to break the silence, and the corners of his mouth twitch up at the sides when he glances at the way the tips of Derek’s ears are flushed. “I’ll make a couple of slices and Derek can do the cake. What time do you want us there?”  
  
~  
  
Cora and Isaac are smearing the syrup from the leftover cherry mixture around their mouths and dropping their fangs to spear cherries on, completely uncaring of the fact that they look the furthest thing from dignified, when Chris sticks his head through the open door.  
  
Lydia glances at him from where she is perched on a stool on the other side of the counter. “Welcome,” she says and tilts her head before sitting up straighter. “And the hunter arrives to observe the majestic werewolf in their natural habitat. Contrary to expectations there are no signs of aggression but the prospect of a sugar high _is_ alarming.”  
  
“They’ve been watching too much David Attenborough,” Derek says from where he’s bent over the counter and smoothing icing over the layered sponge cake. “I didn’t even know there could be such a thing as too much but apparently college applications change the game.” He evens out a corner with the small spatula. “There were accents involved an hour ago.”  
  
Chris’ laugh is a little startled.  
  
Derek glances up, leaning on the counter when he finishes the side of the cake he’s working on. There is a smear of chocolate high on his cheek and Lydia is still narrating Cora and Isaac’s behaviour but it fades to background noise when he offers Chris a brief, small smile. “Slice smells good.”  
  
“Thanks,” he says and puts it down on the dining table. “What’d you end up getting him? I left Allison in charge of our gift.”  
  
“Voucher for a new set of tyres on that bike,” Derek says and reaches for the piping bag on the other side of the cake. “Melissa was worrying.”  
  
Cora says something that, between the cherries and the fangs and the syrup, comes out mostly unintelligible. Isaac nods in agreement regardless and gets syrup all down the front of his shirt. Cora laughs so hard she inhales one of the cherries and starts to choke.  
  
Derek puts the piping bag down and lands an open handed smack between her shoulder blades while Lydia holds onto the side of the counter in silent hysterics.  
  
There is syrup everywhere and Chris’ next laugh comes out more genuine than startled.  
  
~  
  
Allison confronts Chris a week after the dinner for Scott’s birthday. She wanders into the kitchen when he’s frowning at the recipe for a bourguignon and muttering to himself.  
  
“Dad?” she says and he glances up at her with relief on his face.  
  
“Hey,” he says and shoves the book away as he turns towards her. “I know I said I was cooking but how do you feel about takeout tonight?”  
  
“Takeout’s fine,” she says. “Can we talk first?”  
  
He looks concerned. “Sure. Is everything okay? Do you need help with your applications?” The concern shifts to actual worry and she feels a little bad for making him panic. Not bad enough to abandon the topic, though, and she ploughs forward.  
  
“I want to know what the deal is with you and Derek Hale,” she says and crosses her arms over her chest. “The truth.”  
  
The confusion on his face seems genuine and Allison feels the first stirrings of a guilty kind of relief in her gut. “The deal?”  
  
“I know you’ve been spending time together,” she says and watches him carefully. His body language is still loose and relaxed and there are none of the tells she’s noted over the last year to suggest he’s lying. “And I want to know what’s going on.”  
  
Chris blinks at her. “He’s the pack’s alpha,” he says as though he wonders why he’s got to explain this. “I’m your father. John is Stiles’ father and Melissa is Scott’s mother. We talk about how to keep you all safe. Sometimes we grab coffee or a beer or a meal, sure.” His shoulders lift a little, tense, before they relax. “After everything that’s happened, and for all that we’re different, we have a lot more in common these days. Derek and I are the ones who know the most and are in the best position to work together.”  
  
“So you’re all hanging out?” Allison asks, a little disbelieving, because that makes more sense than she was expecting. “Not just you and Derek?”  
  
He nods. “Yes, I guess you could say we’re all friends even outside of life-threatening situations by now. John made Derek and I sit through _Fight Club_ a few weeks ago after we all had coffee on Melissa’s break.” He shakes his head. “You’d be surprised but I have no doubts he’s Stiles’ father anymore.”  
  
Allison laughs and it comes out a little hysterical. Chris reaches out for her, eyes a little wide in alarm, and she pats his forearm and gives him a slightly awkward hug before backing away. “Okay. That’s all I wanted to know, uh, so just call me for dinner?”  
  
She turns around and starts for the stairs.  
  
“Are Isaac and Scott joining us for dinner?” he calls when she’s halfway up.  
  
“Shit,” she mutters to herself. “Uh, I’ll call them and ask!” she shouts back and runs the rest of the way to her room.  
  
Isaac looks up at her from where he and Scott are playing UNO on the floor. “So no beef bourguignon?” he asks with a grin.  
  
Allison throws a pillow at him while Scott snickers. “Draw four,” he says, smug, as Isaac sits back up and glares.  
  
~  
  
Chris lifts a hand to knock and hears Derek call out “it’s open!” from inside. He slides the apartment door open instead and holds the sixpack of beer out like an offering as he goes.  
  
Derek glances up from the counter where he’s chopping something. “It’s not the horse piss John buys,” Chris assures him before he can say anything.  
  
“I would have locked the door if I smelled that stuff again,” Derek says and Chris snorts in amusement as he sets the beer down on the other side of the counter. “Everyone’s heading over soon. Any news? I ran another patrol this morning and no signs of pixies.”  
  
“All clear,” Chris says and opens two of the beers, sliding one towards Derek, before he sits down on one of the stools. “Although I had a strange conversation with Allison the other night. She was pretty tense and wanted to know what the deal was with all of us apparently ‘hanging out’?”  
  
Derek frowns and puts the knife aside. He reaches for the beer, sniffs, and then takes a tentative sip. “Passable.” He takes a bigger mouthful and then puts it down and picks the knife up again and starts on the spring onions. “She must have been talking to Cora, she keeps asking me what’s up with it as well. I don’t know what’s gotten into her. I know she’s worried about college applications but Lydia will make sure she gets in wherever they decide to go.”  
  
“Teenage girls,” Chris says and taps their beers together before surveying the contents of the counter. “What can I do?”  
  
Derek tips his head towards the cob bread sitting on a chopping board. “Wash your hands and you could hollow that out and tear up the insides for dipping.”  
  
Chris gets up and circles around towards the sink. “I don’t think I’ve been told to wash my hands since I was eleven,” he says. He can’t even see Derek’s face but he would put money on him rolling his eyes. There is a hand towel hanging from the cabinet under the sink and he dries them before returning to his seat where he pulls the board and the bread towards himself. The top of the bread has been sliced off already and he starts carefully removing the bread from the crust.  
  
~  
  
Cora can smell the dip and hear the low murmur of conversation from the stairwell.  
  
“Oh my god. What is that?” Scott asks and sniffs the air.  
  
“Hot bread dip,” Erica says and takes off down the hall.  
  
“We could hire Derek out for parties,” Lydia says thoughtfully. “It could be really lucrative. Between the food and the view we would have a huge target market.”  
  
“I want to be there when you pitch that idea to him,” Isaac says.  
  
“Throats and teeth,” Stiles adds helpfully.  
  
“There’ll be bloodshed,” Boyd says gravely and Allison makes a reluctant sound of agreement.  
  
Cora ignores them because when she gets to the door Chris Argent is there with an open beer in hand and grinning at Derek across the counter while they put the food out. The look in his eyes, oddly fond and not at all something she’s seen on his face before, makes claws prick at her fingertips.  
  
~  
  
“Derek!” Cora’s voice is shrill and entirely too loud when Derek answers his phone on the night of the 31 st. “Derek, there is someone eating dead bodies in the cemetery. It’s Halloween and there is someone _eating dead bodies in the cemetery_!”  
  
“What are you doing in the cemetery?” he demands as he runs for the door.  
  
“We weren’t _in_ the cemetery,” Cora shoots back and she sounds breathless. “We were just nearby and something smelled weirder than normal and then Lydia felt weird so we went to check it out. Allison shot it but that did nothing. It looked human, Derek, but it smelled wrong. Isaac and Scott can’t tell anything more than I can.”  
  
“Okay, get _out_ of the cemetery,” Derek says as he jumps down the entire last flight of stairs. “Head for the station. John is on shift and you should all be safe. I’m going to head there and figure it out, okay? Is everyone alright? Are Boyd and Erica and Stiles with you?”  
  
“Boyd told us we were idiots and stayed at the diner,” Cora says and Derek can hear that there are only five heartbeats pounding over the phone. “He bribed Erica to stay with pie and we left when Stiles went to the bathroom.”  
  
“At least one of you has some sense,” he mutters. “Get them and go to the station. I’ll call when I know more.”  
  
“Call my dad!” Allison shouts over the line. “He can check the bestiary.”  
  
“Will do,” he promises and hangs up.  
  
~  
  
“Only those kids,” Chris mutters as he gets into the passenger side of the Camaro ten minutes later. “A cemetery on Halloween. Do you think grounding Allison would be too harsh?”  
  
“They ran so at least they’re not as bad as they were. I’m more surprised Stiles had nothing to do with it,” Derek points out and pulls back onto the road. He heads towards the edge of town and glances sideways at Chris. “I’m thinking it’s got to be a ghoul of some sort though. Humanoid eating dead bodies in a cemetery kind of leaves a short list, right?”  
  
“Yeah,” Chris agrees. He pats the black bag in his lap. “Cannibal or ghoul. Luckily decapitation works for both.”  
  
~  
  
“Something was eating dead bodies in the cemetery?” Stiles blurts. “Do you know _nothing_? I’m ashamed of all of you, _all of you_ , mostly because there was obviously a ghoul in the cemetery and you didn’t take me with you!”  
  
John clears his throat from the doorway. “Stiles,” he says calmly. “I’d like to see you in my office.”  
  
Cora sneers at him as he swallows and follows John out of the door. He bares his teeth at her and Lydia rolls her eyes at both of them. “He’s right, we should have realised it was a ghoul,” she says when the door closes behind him.  
  
“Dad and Derek will have it all under control,” Allison says but her heartbeat wavers a little. “I think. Should we go and help them?”  
  
“Derek said to stay here,” Boyd says. “Maybe we should try this new thing called following direct orders?”  
  
Scott deflates and Cora frowns. “I’m all for avoiding mess,” Lydia says and leans into Cora’s side. “Decapitation is the most likely choice for killing a ghoul.”  
  
“No wonder shooting it didn’t work,” Isaac says to Allison. “I knew you wouldn’t have missed.” Scott nods enthusiastically and Allison perks up slightly.  
  
“I like decapitating things.” Erica sounds disappointed.  
  
Stiles slams back into the room with a face like thunder. “I hate all of you.”  
  
~  
  
“Well,” Chris pants, leaning heavily on the axe, as Derek stares down at the mess splattered all over his clothes. “The good news is I think we got it before it went from corpses to children. Happy Halloween to Beacon Hills.”  
  
“That is the bright side,” Derek agrees and shakes his head vigorously to dislodge whatever is making his hair feel like he’d used an entire tub of product that he left in the sun. Something makes an ominous kind of splat when it hits a nearby gravestone. Chris shudders a little and Derek mentally writes off his entire outfit. He really hopes he doesn’t have to shave his head.  
  
“I think I have some clean clothes in the trunk,” he says and glances at Chris. The blood has soaked the other man’s shirt completely through in places and it clings like a second skin. From the way Chris is looking at him Derek thinks his must be in an even worse state. “Are yours beyond saving too?”  
  
 **November 2012**  
  
“The ghoul wasn’t even the most traumatising part of the whole thing,” Cora says and Lydia redirects her attention back to the translation on her desk.  
  
“It was fairly traumatising,” she points out absently.  
  
“Were you not there when Chris walked in dressed in Derek’s clothes?” Cora asks.  
  
“They suited him,” Lydia says. “If you hadn’t seized up and started sniffing the air like an actual animal I wouldn’t have even noticed.”  
  
“The scent mixing was kind of weird,” Boyd agrees from the desk behind them. “I wouldn’t say traumatising though.”  
  
“Thank you,” Lydia says without looking up from her notes. “Cora, we’re finalising applications for Stanford at the end of the week. If your essay isn’t done you aren’t going to like what _else_ won’t be getting done afterwards.”  
  
Cora lets her head fall to thump on the table.  
  
~  
  
“Can we talk about something?”  
  
There isn’t much chance to respond, whether Isaac wanted to or not, before Cora’s fingers are closing around his wrist and pulling him into the furthest corner of the corridor. “Sure,” he says and hopes she hears the sarcasm but the expression on her face is so focused that he’s pretty sure she doesn’t.  
  
“Chris has been making eyes at Derek,” she says. Her eyebrows are angled downwards in a way that says this is a serious conversation and Isaac kind of misses the days before understanding the language of Hale eyebrows was a survival skill he needed. “Allison says Chris wasn’t lying when she asked him about it but she’s not a werewolf so he _could_ lie to her. Derek says I’m imagining things but I have no faith in his observational abilities.”  
  
Isaac wrinkles his nose. The implications of the eyebrows aside, he isn’t sure he’s at all prepared for this conversation. “Are you sure they’re not just his normal eyes?” He frowns and thinks that came out wrong. “I mean, Chris’ face is hard to read sometimes and he’s good at keeping his heartbeat weirdly calm.”  
  
“Are you saying that his normal face is making googly eyes at my brother?” Cora demands and he realises he may have made this worse. “How long has this been going on? Why is no one stopping it?”  
  
Isaac blinks at her and pretends to look thoughtful while he assesses the quickest route out of the hallway and tells himself that sometimes flight is better than fight. “You know what? You should talk to Scott. Or Stiles. They’ve been around the longest and would know more.”  
  
He doesn’t need the escape route, in the end, because Cora pats him on the forearm in thanks and heads out in search of Scott and Stiles. He feels bad about setting her on their tails for approximately six seconds before he gets distracted by the smell of pizza from the cafeteria.  
  
~  
  
“How long has it been happening?” Cora demands as she comes to a halt and grabs Stiles’ shoulder to make him face her.  
  
Scott looks confused so she focuses on Stiles. He mostly looks indignant. “ _Well_?” she says.  
  
“How long has _what_ been happening?” Stiles throws his hands up in the air and glares at her. He points a finger at her face and skitters sideways when she snaps her teeth at it. “And let me tell you a thing, Cora, your brother and I might have an unspoken agreement where he gets a certain amount of free passes to push me around in exchange for me using his face and everything in general as a distraction to do less-than-legal things but that agreement does not include you!”  
  
She narrows her eyes and boxes him in against the lockers while Scott makes an alarmed sound. “What exactly do you mean by that?” she asks. “Using his face? His everything? Do I need to be concerned about your intentions?”  
  
“What?” Stiles yelps and looks desperately to Scott when he can’t back any further away from her. “What, no, oh Jesus Christ, not like that! Scott, help me out here?”  
  
“Stiles has no intentions,” Scott says but he sounds less than certain about it. Cora turns her head to lift an eyebrow at him. “Definitely no intentions towards Derek,” he repeats, firmer this time, and Cora sees Stiles nodding furiously out of the corner of her eye.  
  
“See? No intentions towards your brother,” Stiles says cheerfully and ducks under her arm and behind the dubious protection of an unoccupied locker door. “None at all. Perfectly innocent human over here.”  
  
Cora continues looking at Scott intently. He falters. “We did accuse him of murder,” he says miserably. “Twice.”  
  
Cora sighs as Stiles flails in outrage. “You’re useless to me.”  
  
~  
  
A week after the incident with the ghoul the pack are at Lydia’s because the sofa cushions from the apartment are being dry-cleaned after an unfortunate incident involving Stiles, soda, a bowl of Cheetos and Cora the night before. Lydia’s living room is large enough to keep Cora and Stiles well out of each other’s way and everyone had been of the opinion that was best.  
  
Derek stops to grab some groceries, anticipating an empty apartment and a solitary dinner, on his way home from the community centre and the Sunday afternoon social basketball game. His senses are still running high after the game and the satisfaction of a win when he steps into the store and hears Chris muttering to himself in the fresh produce section.  
  
He’s so engrossed in the merits of the tomatoes on offer that he doesn’t even notice Derek approach until he’s leaning against the side of the display and plucks one of the tomatoes in question out from the tray. Chris looks up sharply and his heartbeat skyrockets straight past surprised. Derek is instantly alarmed and reaches out to put a hand on Chris’ shoulder.  
  
“It’s okay, I didn’t mean-” and then Chris is dropping the tomato in his hand back into the tray and narrowing his eyes at Derek as the adrenaline rush starts to even out.  
  
“I’m beginning to see why the kids keep talking about getting you a bell,” he says, a little breathless, and Derek relaxes when he hears the complete lack of anger in Chris’ voice. He pats his shoulder and lets a corner of his mouth quirk up.  
  
“Leave the tomatoes and I’ll apologise with lasagne,” he offers as he lifts his own basket with his other hand. “If you don’t have plans?”  
  
Chris’ heartbeat falters, barely a blip, but he just nods with a rueful laugh. “Sounds like an acceptable apology.”  
  
~  
  
“It freezes well,” Derek says when they’ve finished eating and he’s packed the leftover lasagne into a container. He pushes the Tupperware across the bench towards Chris. Chris reaches out for it, their fingers brushing, and neither pulls away from the contact. There is something intent about the way Chris’ eyes are fixed on his, something he feels like he’s missing, and both of their heartbeats skip.  
  
“Thanks,” Chris says, breaking the silence, and Derek’s gaze drops from his face to his throat. He watches the way it undulates when he swallows, a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, and Chris’ next breath comes out a little unsteady.  
  
“You’re welcome,” he says, voice a little hoarse, and manages to drag his eyes back up to Chris’ face. He tries for a smile. “Leftovers don’t last very long here so you’ve got to get in quick.”  
  
Chris clears his throat and nods. There’s a dull flush at the base of his throat and he tightens his grip on the Tupperware before he backs towards the door. “I appreciate it,” he says and there’s an odd note in his voice that doesn’t sit right and makes Derek tilt his head a little in question. “I should get home though. Allison wants me to read over her admissions essays. I’ll call you about patrols in the morning.”  
  
“Okay,” Derek agrees. “I’ll run one tonight and we’ll sort the week’s roster out tomorrow with John and Melissa.”  
  
“Goodnight,” Chris says and his heart beats rapidly as he turns on his heel and lets himself out.  
  
Derek stands there with his hand half-raised in a wave, frowning slightly, for a good ten seconds after the door slides closed.  
  
Chris is just on the outskirts of Derek’s hearing range when he blurts out “fuck” before starting the engine and driving off.  
  
Derek’s frown deepens. “Weird,” he says and shakes his head a little to clear it. He catches himself thinking about the way the skin of Chris’ throat had flushed more than once in the hours before Cora comes home and distracts him with an argument about where the leftover lasagne had gone.  
  
He lays in bed afterwards and wonders whether he’s misread the last few months and overstepped the boundaries of their tentative friendship. Sleep doesn’t come easy.  
  
~  
  
Erica glances over at an agitated Cora during math the next day. “You look about three seconds from shifting,” she says helpfully. “Do you need us to cover for you? You say anything about monthly problems to a male teacher and you’re basically pushed out of the classroom. Girls locker room is always a good choice this early in the day too.”  
  
Boyd offers a silent nod of agreement without looking up from his notebook.  
  
Cora twists in her seat to face them properly and leans in close to whisper. “Lydia thinks I’m imagining things but I think Chris has a _thing_ ,” she wrinkles her nose, “for Derek and Derek is now refusing to listen to me when I tell him to keep his guard up. Also, Derek made lasagne yesterday. Not that there was any evidence of it left in the fridge because he gave it to Chris.” She looks utterly scandalised. “Those leftovers should have been mine.”  
  
“Why didn’t you tell us there was lasagne?” Erica hisses. “You promised you would tell us about leftovers.”  
  
“I would have fought you for them,” Boyd says calmly.  
  
A balled up piece of paper hits Cora in the back of the head and she turns around with her teeth bared. Stiles waves, grinning with too many teeth as well, and Scott looks utterly betrayed.  
  
Erica leans over to smooth out the paper.  
  
“Why aren’t we ever invited over for lasagne?” she reads.  
  
Boyd takes the paper from her, scrawls _because no one likes you_ across the bottom, and throws it back at them. He turns to Cora. “Did you do the homework? I can’t get the right answer for the third problem set.”  
  
~  
  
John looks up quickly when he hears the rapping on his office door on Monday afternoon. Chris is standing in the doorway and looks like he’s hardly slept.  
  
“Chris,” he says and stands up calmly even though his heart has started racing a little. Their regular meeting is that night so the urgency is definitely worrying. “Has something happened?”  
  
“Can we talk?” Chris says and his voice is oddly blank. “I think I have a problem.”  
  
John’s panic rises another notch but he nods, grabs his keys and gun, and follows Chris out to the cruiser. The other man is unsettlingly silent until they’re past the town centre and into suburbia nowhere near either of their homes.  
  
“Chri-”  
  
“I wanted to kiss Derek last night,” Chris blurts and John slams on the brakes so hard that the tyres squeal and a jogger on the street runs right into number 8’s mailbox in alarm. Chris swears, long and loud, and John finds himself having a lot of trouble getting from incoherent sounds to actual words.  
  
When John has managed to remember how to speak again he winds down the window, apologises to the jogger, and turns to stare at Chris. “Did you just say what I thought you said?”  
  
“Yes,” Chris says without looking up from his hands.  
  
“Jesus.” John rubs a hand over his face. “Am I going to need beer to look him in the eye tonight?”  
  
~  
  
Chris is the one who has trouble looking Derek in the eye when they all meet for dinner that night, as it turns out, and is the last one to arrive at John’s after he spends a solid twenty minutes convincing himself to actually go.  
  
Melissa is watching both he and Derek with narrowed eyes, like she can sense the tension. Derek somehow manages to look both completely unaffected and also more closed off than Chris has seen him in what feels like a lifetime. He feels startlingly off-balance to realise that six months ago he would have put a bullet between Derek’s eyes with very little hesitation. He shuts down the train of thought when Victoria’s face flashes behind his eyes. Kate and his father’s faces are never far behind hers.  
  
The nod he receives in greeting is cool and casual but Derek disappears to the kitchen almost immediate. Melissa turns her gaze on John and does something with her eyebrows that makes Chris’ stomach twist and then follows Derek into the kitchen.  
  
Chris is mostly expecting it when John grabs his elbow and hauls him outside with a shouted and deceptively casual “We’re going for more soda!”  
  
He is completely expecting it, halfway down the street, when John explodes into motion in the passenger seat of the SUV. “What did you _do_?” he demands. “I haven’t seen him look like that since the boys had me arrest him for murder.”  
  
Chris can’t help the flinch at that even though he manages to keep his eyes on the road. “Nothing!” he insists and it really is the truth. “I haven’t eve spoken to him since last night. Even if I was thinking about it I didn’t _do_ anything.” His knuckles go a little white with the force of his grip on the steering wheel a second later. “Did you tell Melissa?  
  
John shifts uncomfortably in his seat as realisation settles on his face. “Maybe.”  
  
~  
  
Melissa literally shoves Chris through the door after Derek at the end of the night with a hissed “fix it!” and the resounding slam of the door. When he looks up Derek is leaning against the Camaro with his arms crossed over his chest and an unreadable expression.  
  
“I-” he says.  
  
Derek pushes up off the car and gives him the barest hint of a smile. “I get it,” he says and Chris closes his mouth with a jolt and frowns. Derek looks understanding and Chris has no idea what is happening. “Sometimes I forget how far we had to come to get here too.”  
  
Chris swallows because _oh_. “I-yeah,” he says.  
  
Derek opens the door and tilts his head towards Chris. “Night, Chris.”  
  
Chris thinks about what the hollow of Derek’s throat would feel like against his lips. He thinks about using his words and confessing all the things that have been building up since that first realisation. “Goodnight, Derek,” is what comes out of his mouth instead.  
  
He’s still thinking about what the hollow of Derek’s throat would feel like against his lips when he crawls between the covers of his bed an hour later and buries his face in his pillow with a muffled “ _shit_.”  
  
~  
  
“What’s happening with Thanksgiving?” Lydia asks Cora sleepily. It’s a Friday night and she’s sprawled out over her bed, on her belly with Cora sitting on the back of her thighs, and makes a pleased noise when Cora starts kneading her bare shoulders.  
  
Cora hums and uses the heel of her palm to get at a particularly tense muscle. “I think Derek and Scott’s mom are planning on cooking enough to feed the entire town,” she says. “He made Isaac and me test four different types of stuffing last night. Our opinions weren’t enough so I called Erica. She and Boyd literally came over at eleven to eat stuffing.”  
  
Lydia giggles, warm and lethargic under Cora’s hands, and stretches slowly. “Was he wearing an apron? Please tell me he was wearing an apron.”  
  
“I don’t get why you’re all still so surprised when he does dorky shit,” Cora snorts and leans down to press a kiss to the back of Lydia’s neck. Her voice goes a little quieter. “We used to be able to convince him to do anything we wanted. Laura would put him in her dresses before I was born.” She breathes out, her hands stilling against Lydia’s skin, and Lydia reaches for her hand as Cora slides down to lay on her side. “There were tea parties. Mom showed the pictures to anyone who visited. Derek _hated_ it.”  
  
“I bet you were the worst,” Lydia says, as much as she wants to laugh so hard she cries at the image of a grumpy miniature version of Derek in a dress, and squeezes Cora's fingers as she shifts onto her own side. “He wouldn’t have had a chance between the pair of you.”  
  
“I was a perfect child,” Cora huffs and buries her face in the curve of her neck and shoulder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
  
Lydia lets go of Cora’s hand and pushes her onto her back with an amused smile. “Perfect, huh?” she says and lifts her leg over, pushing herself up, until she’s straddling Cora’s hips.  
  
Cora lifts an eyebrow and curls her fingers around Lydia’s waist. “Mm, I think so,” she says and her eyes flicker gold in the dim light from the lamp. “What do you think?”  
  
Lydia runs her hands down Cora’s sides and slides them just under the waistband of her shorts, pressing lightly on the soft skin of her belly, as she bites her bottom lip. Cora’s eyes flare again, brighter this time, and she lifts her hips a little. Lydia pushes down with her own and revels in the whine that leaves Cora’s lips.  
  
She leans down until their noses are almost touching. “I could be convinced,” she breathes out against Cora’s mouth.  
  
~  
  
Melissa’s name flashes up on Chris’ phone when it starts ringing ten days before Thanksgiving.  
  
“Morning, Melissa,” he says and leans against his desk. Any distraction from the sheer incompetence of the company he's currently doing security consulting for is welcome. “What can I do for you today?”  
  
“You know how I said to leave Thanksgiving to Derek and I when we all had dinner?” she says and her tone is too light to mean anything but trouble.  
  
“Yes?” he says, even though he doesn’t because he’d spent the entire dinner trying to avoid and straightens up a crooked pile of papers. “Although I’m pretty sure you told John and I in much more colourful terms than that. There was some colourful lang-”  
  
“Don’t fish for an apology, you’re not going to get it,” she says. “Can you make pie crusts from scratch?”  
  
Chris scratches his chin and imagines Melissa’s expression. It’s enough to make him crack a smile. “I can,” he says.  
  
“So you’re on dessert duty,” she says. “Thanks for that, don’t ever mention it again, and good luck with Derek. He’s a tyrant.”  
  
Chris is still chuckling at the dial tone when she hangs up. He stops, abruptly, when he realises just what he’s agreed to.  
  
~  
  
 _You should probably double whatever quantity of pies you're thinking of making.  
  
_ Chris stares at the text message from Derek. _Double it?_ he types. _I was planning on making 8.  
  
_ _16 should be enough.  
  
_ He hasn’t even managed to reply before another comes through. _So long as there are at least 6 apple. Maybe 7. Everyone likes apple.  
  
_ He forwards the message thread to Melissa in disbelief.  
  
She responds with _haaahahahahahahahahaha_ and Chris is still trying to glare at his phone when Allison comes into the kitchen. She makes a questioning noise as she finishes tying up her hair, hauls herself up to sit on the other side of the counter, and leans over to wash her hands.  
  
"Sixteen pies," he says and locks the screen before he shoves it towards the fruit bowl. "Did I miss something? Is no one eating the main course?"  
  
"Two words for you, Dad," Allison says and reaches for the chopping board and one of the green apples. "Teenage werewolves." She grins. "Well, three if you count Stiles."  
  
Chris snorts. "Point. Do you think we might need a couple more pies as a buffer?"  
  
"Might be a good idea," she agrees. She looks at him sideways. "I may have… been bragging about your pies a bit." Chris lifts an eyebrow and her eyes drop to her hands. “Okay, so, maybe I bragged a lot.”  
  
“You know, I remember the very first time you decided that pie was your favourite,” he says and hands her a peeler. “You were four and your mother-” he swallows when he sees her hand shake a little as she sets the apple on its’ side. “Your mother was making your birthday cake and you stuck your finger in the batter when she wasn’t looking.” There’s a pang in his belly and Allison’s eyes are soft and wide when she lifts them to meet his. He smiles and reaches out to cover her hand with his. “You scrunched your face up when you tasted it and ran over to me and told me you didn’t like cake anymore but you didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Your solution was accidentally knocking the bowl off the counter and ruining it all just so we could make a pie.”

Allison rubs over her eyes with her other hand and breathes out a tiny laugh. “I don’t remember that.”  
  
Chris squeezes her hand. “Your mother heard you,” he says and then grabs another apple up to set it on the board in front of him. “She was trying not to laugh because your stage whispering still needed some work. Your face when she pretended to drop the entire bowl in the sink was priceless.” He starts to peel the apple, hands steady, and Allison does the same across the counter.  
  
There is a mostly comfortable silence for a moment, enough for Chris to finish the first apple and reach for another, before Allison puts hers down. “Do you-” she makes a frustrated sound and looks up at him. “Do you think she’d be okay with how things are? With us?” She hesitates. “With _me_?”  
  
Chris’ hands fall still and he doesn’t quite know how to tell Allison he still wonders the same thing every day and hasn’t come up with an answer.  
  
“I think she wanted us to be safe and happy,” he says finally and the words feel rough when they leave his lips. “I don’t know whether she’d believe in the same things we’ve come to, sweetheart, but I do know she’d be proud of you.”  
  
Allison nods and swipes at her eyes with her sleeve. It feels like enough, in that moment, that they’re both there and together doing something that has always been just theirs.  
  
~

  
Thanksgiving is utter chaos.  
  
Scott and Stiles and Erica are setting the table in Melissa’s dining room when Scott yowls like an angry cat and Melissa drops the entire pot of mashed potato in alarm. Boyd catches it with one hand, balanced perfectly, barely three inches into the fall.  
  
“What was that?” she shouts and then Erica is laughing.  
  
“Oh my god, would you stop being such a baby!” Stiles yells and Boyd puts the pot on the stovetop for her with a sigh before heading for the dining room.  
  
“You stabbed me with a _fork_!” Scott sounds betrayed. “That is for _eating_ , Stiles!”  
  
“Jesus Christ,” John says from the other side of the kitchen.  
  
Cora, Derek, Isaac and Lydia are cramming themselves through the front door and spilling into the kitchen a moment later with armfuls of dishes covered with glass lids and gleaming aluminium foil. The smell is heavenly.  
  
Derek looks a little frazzled and Melissa takes the casserole dish from the crook of his elbow slowly. “You okay?” she asks as Isaac slips into the dining room where Scott and Stiles are still arguing. The shouting grows in volume and she can hear Stiles talking about three-tined forks being descended from the trident and something about appropriate weaponry choices.  
  
“There was an incident,” Lydia says darkly as she puts her stack of Tupperware containers on the sink. “We aren’t talking about it.”  
  
Cora makes a face at her back and Melissa wonders just what happened to her life.  
  
“Allison and Chris are pulling up!” Boyd calls as John moves to help unload the precarious arrangement of dishes in Derek’s arms.  
  
“Pie!” Stiles cries gleefully and Melissa thinks that she’s okay with whatever happened.  
  
~  
  
“I don’t know about all of you but I’m thankful for Derek’s stuffing,” Erica says and drops her cutlery on the empty plate.  
  
“I’m thankful for my mom’s mash,” Scott says mulishly. “Because you didn’t _leave_ me any stuffing.”  
  
“My dad’s bread rolls are better than both of those things,” Stiles says and gestures with the half-eaten roll in his hand for emphasis. There are traces of stuffing _and_ mash on the roll.  
  
“I’m thankful for the fact that no one else has been stabbed with a fork,” Boyd says.  
  
~  
  
Cora finds Derek on the front step when everyone else is sprawled out in the living room in varying stages of food coma.  
  
He pats the spot beside him once before returning his hand to his lap and staring out at the street. “You have enough to eat?” he asks.  
  
Cora snorts and drops down to sit beside him. “Did you see how surprised the Sheriff was at the scraps we left behind? I think we all ate more than enough.”  
  
Derek’s mouth twitches up at the corners. “I think he was more surprised by how much Allison and Lydia put away than anything. We expect it from the rest of you.”  
  
They lapse into silence and Cora leans into his side.  
  
“Thanks,” she says quietly because she knows the same memories that keep catching her off guard and making it hard to breathe are playing in technicolour behind his eyes too.  
  
He nods. “You too,” he says, just as quietly, and leans into her as well. She hears his heartbeat spike before he puts his arm around her shoulder and breathes out. “Mostly for staying.”  
  
Cora rubs her cheek against his shoulder and her voice is a little hoarse when she speaks. “Couldn’t have done anything else.”  
  
Derek presses a kiss to her temple and they stay there a while, silent and leaning together, until the door opens and they’re surrounded by voices and warmth again.  
  
 **December 2012**  
  
December blows in unusually cold. It starts snowing and Christmas fever strikes the pack as a whole.  
  
~  
  
“We do not need seven Christmas trees,” Derek says blankly.  
  
“This is where a chore chart would come in handy,” Stiles says. “Or, you know, just _communicating_.”  
  
“I like mine best,” Cora says and very deliberately doesn’t look at Isaac because she knows she’ll cave.  
  
“I don’t care which one stays here but the other six need to leave before we drown in pine needles,” Derek says and goes inside.  
  
“You need two though!” Erica says. “A birthday tree and a Christmas tree.”  
  
“Birthday trees aren’t a thing.” Scott doesn’t sound like he’s entirely convinced he’s right.  
  
“Birthday trees are not a thing, thank you, Scott!” Derek shouts from inside.  
  
“Birthday trees are going to be a thing,” Lydia says and looks at Erica’s tree in consideration.  
  
~  
  
“What’s a birthday tree?” Melissa asks at their next meeting.  
  
Derek shoots Chris a look of utter betrayal.  
  
~  
  
Cora slams into Lydia’s room with a flush high in her cheeks in the second week of December. Lydia slowly spins in her desk chair to face her.  
  
“Chris asked me what to get Derek for his birthday today.” Cora’s voice is trembling a little.  
  
Lydia lifts an eyebrow. “You’re his sister. As far as gift-giving advice goes you’re an acceptable candidate.”  
  
“ _Chris_ is buying Derek a birthday present, Lydia.” Cora stands very still but her eyes keep flickering between brown and gold.  
  
“I know you don’t like the fact that they’re friends,” Lydia says patiently. “And that’s okay. You’re allowed to be wary of Chris but you’re taking this one too far and, if you aren’t careful, you could end up sabotaging a very sensible partnership.”  
  
“Look at what his sister did to my family.” Cora spits the words. “She destroyed it and now he’s acting like that never happened and Derek is letting him.”  
  
“You know that there were months there that you missed where they had to sort out their past, Cora,” Lydia says. Sometimes she forgets that there was an entire year there that Cora _wasn’t_ with them. “He isn’t acting like it never happened and Derek isn’t letting him get away with anything. They’re treating each other as actual people instead of just names now and it’s good for all of us.”  
  
“Good until he remembers what he’s been trained to do his entire life and puts a wolfsbane bullet in Derek’s heart. Derek will never see it coming.” She sees a flash of fang. “ _Then_ what do I do?”  
  
“This isn’t about Chris being a threat to the pack, is it?” Lydia narrows her eyes. “You know he wouldn’t hurt any of you for being werewolves anymore. You’re just mad that he’s so close to Derek.” She jabs a finger into Cora’s sternum. “You’re jealous.”  
  
Cora’s jaw drops and Lydia leans in close, poking her again, and repeats herself. “You’re jealous that Derek’s friends with Chris. That you have to share him with someone who you don’t like.”  
  
Cora sputters and Lydia yanks her into a sudden hug. “You’re such an idiot,” she says and the words are muffled by Cora’s hair. Cora finds herself hugging back in spite of her anger and growls unhappily into Lydia’s neck.  
  
Lydia hugs her tighter. “It’s alright, we like you anyway.”  
  
~  
  
“Ice skating?” Chris sounds dubious.  
  
“It’s compulsory, apparently,” Melissa informs him.  
  
“Are we sure this is a good idea?” John asks.  
  
Derek sighs. “I don’t think this is going to be a good idea.”  
  
~  
  
Allison has Scott on one side, Isaac on the other, and Erica and Boyd are skating in circles around Stiles. He keeps changing direction to try and trip them and Melissa wonders whether they’re going to end up in the ER regardless of the fact that she barely managed to get the day off.  
  
Cora finishes the laces on her skates and Lydia pulls her to her feet smoothly. “Come on,” she says and leads her towards the side of the rink. “This is the time for all that lycanthropic grace to be useful.”  
  
A few benches away Derek is glancing warily at the ice. Cora is doing the same from her position braced against the side. “I’m a more than competent skater,” Lydia is assuring her and using a hand under her elbow to guide her. “You’ll be fine. We’ll just go nice and slow for a while.”  
  
“I’m a terrible skater,” Derek mutters quietly and Chris leans in closer to him.  
  
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that?”  
  
“I’m a terrible skater,” he repeats and stands up a little shakily. “I broke my leg in Central Park once.”  
  
Chris snorts out a laugh and Derek scowls.  
  
“This is a terrible ide-” Cora’s voice rises and then cuts out as she disappears from view behind the edge of the rink.  
  
“Oh my God.” Melissa sounds resigned.  
  
~  
  
“You can’t cook on your birthday.” Even _Scott_ is looking at him with judgment in his eyes and Derek wilts a little under the collective force of their disbelief.  
  
“I’m going to make your birthday cake,” Stiles says and there is a vaguely unholy glee in his eyes. Derek tilts his head a little but the changed vantage point doesn’t make the teenager look any less deranged at the prospect of making a cake.  
  
“We’re going to help Stiles with your birthday cake,” Lydia says and tugs Cora towards him. “It will be perfect even if I have to pay someone else to make it.” The thought is only a little reassuring. Derek glances at Cora and remembers cake batter fights. He blinks, swallows, and looks at Chris for backup before the knot in his stomach grows.  
  
“Allison and I can do the traditional mains,” Chris volunteers and Derek’s disappointed glare is only half-hearted. Chris’ mouth twitches up at the sides.  
  
“And John and I will make some of your less traditional favourites!” Melissa announces and claps her hands together. “There, it’s all planned. Now _go_ , I know half of you still have shopping left to do!”  
  
~  
  
“I need you to talk me out of this,” Chris says into his hands. “This is an awful idea. Cora has started dropping fangs whenever she sees me.”  
  
“Have you stopped wanting to kiss him every time you see him?” He can’t see Melissa’s face but he’s pretty sure she’s judging him.  
  
“He hasn’t,” John supplies and he is definitely judging Derek. “You need to do _something_ about it.”  
  
~  
  
“Can you even make cake?” Cora demands. “You volunteered to make Derek’s birthday cake but that looks like bear shit in a pan. It smells worse.”  
  
Stiles frowns down at the pan. “It’s out of a _box_.”  
  
Lydia reaches for her cell phone. “Mom, can you text me the number for that bakery you got my sixteenth cake from? Thanks.”  
  
“I followed the instructions,” Stiles says helplessly. “Why is it all _cracked_ like that?”  
  
“Derek likes pie better than cake,” Cora informs Lydia. She pokes at the mess in the pan and shudders a little. “Okay, I’m going to go outside before we discover whether werewolves can throw up over cake from a box.”  
  
~  
  
“I still don’t understand the birthday tree thing,” Derek says as Isaac and Erica propel him out of his room on Christmas morning. He’d been pretending to be asleep.  
  
“Don’t question the thing,” Scott says from his cross-legged position between the trees. “Happy birthday!”  
  
“Merry Christmas!” Cora wraps a tangle of red and green tinsel around his neck.  
  
Derek tips his head back and sighs but the corners of his eyes are crinkled a little as he says “Why are you all _here_?”  
  
“My dad says I’m not allowed within ten feet of him until after eight am on Christmas morning,” Stiles admits.  
  
“My mom says the same.” Scott sounds dejected as he bats at a gaudy bauble hanging from the closest tree.  
  
“So they decided we all had to come here first,” Allison says and shoves a mug of coffee towards him with the hand not holding her own. “Happy birthday.” Boyd grunts from the couch in apparent agreement. Lydia blinks from the armchair and takes a sip from her own coffee travel mug.  
  
~  
  
“Happy birthday,” Chris says quietly when he finds Derek standing on Melissa’s porch that night. “And merry Christmas.”  
  
Derek’s mouth lifts at the corner. “Thanks,” he says and clinks his mug of cocoa against Chris’. “Merry Christmas to you too.”  
  
“I got you a little something,” Chris says after a few moments of comfortable silence. He hands Derek a small, neatly wrapped box before settling his hand on Derek’s shoulder.  
  
Derek tilts his head with a vague look of surprise. “You didn’t have to do that,” he says.  
  
Chris shrugs and watches as Derek unwraps it slowly.  
  
The small box opens easily and Chris tenses a little in anticipation.  
  
Derek’s breath catches when the jade triskele pendant tips into his palm. He turns to Chris with an expression somewhere between disbelief and wonder. Chris smiles and squeezes Derek’s shoulder before going back inside.  
  
~  
  
Cora holds onto Derek’s hand when they watch Scott and Stiles light the fire in the backyard on New Year’s Eve. Derek’s eyes reflect the light, flicker a little red, and Cora squeezes his fingers to stop her claws coming out.  
  
After Derek disappears into the kitchen, shoulders still tight, Lydia goes up on her tiptoes behind Cora and hooks her chin over her shoulder. “You okay?”  
  
Cora nods. She tangles her fingers with Lydia’s and turns away from the flames. “C’mon, let’s go eat,” she says and Isaac trips past them with an armful of marshmallows and Scott in hot pursuit.  
  
“S’mores!” Erica shouts happily from the back door.  
  
~  
  
After the countdown the teenagers filter back inside for more food and drink. Their happy voices filter out of the windows and doors and Derek is leaning against a tree at the edge of the yard with his head tilted back to look up at the sporadic fireworks still dotting the sky. Chris lets his beer dangle at his side as he wanders across the yard to join the younger man.   
  
He glances behind him, sees Melissa and John curled together in the loveseat on the porch, and Derek offers Chris a lazy smile and nod.  
  
“Happy New Year,” Derek says and Chris’ heart skips a beat at the way the fireworks are casting multi-coloured lightshows across his features. He can see the leather band against the skin of Derek’s neck and it lights a fire in his gut.  
  
He drops his beer and slants his mouth over Derek’s in an abrupt kiss.  
  
Derek is still and shocked when Chris realises what he’s done and reels back in wide-eyed surprise.  
  
“Oh God-”  
  
Derek grabs the front of his shirt and hauls him back in. “Be quiet,” he whispers when they part and Chris follows him, a little dazed, when he leads him towards the Camaro.  
  
~  
  
“Happy New Year,” Chris murmurs, later, against the bare skin of Derek’s hip. When he looks up it’s the first rays of dawn dancing over Derek’s face instead of fireworks but his heart skips a beat again all the same.  
  
 **January 2013**  
  
They make it through five days of peace in 2013.  
  
Stiles bursts into the station and bolts past the unsurprised looking deputies and Shirley at the front desk. The door to John’s office is barely closed behind him before he’s blurting out “Dad, there may be an abominable snowman in the Preserve.”  
  
John blinks. “A-a _what?_ ” Stiles grabs his arm and hauls him out of his seat as he says something about meeting at their house. “Wait a goddamn second, Stiles, did you just say _abominable snowman_?”  
  
Shirley looks mildly concerned as they pass by her desk.  
  
~  
  
“It’s probably just a yeti,” Chris says and he’s got on the same calm, easy-going face he gets when he’s dealing with civilians who get tangled up in their supernatural shenanigans.  
  
John hates that face.  
  
“I don’t know how that is supposed to be comforting,” John says. “ _Why_ is there a yeti?”  
  
“I say cage match,” Stiles declares. “Werewolf vs. abominable snowman. Lay your bets now!”  
  
Derek stares at him flatly and John sighs. “There will be no cage matches between supernatural creatures,” Chris says and very slowly moves to stand between Derek and Stiles with his hands outstretched to keep them apart. His hand lingers on Derek’s chest and John narrows his eyes a little. “But the good news is that the werewolves should be able to take it down.” He looks at John and ignores the way John glances deliberately at his hand. “If you could make something up to keep people far away from the woods until then that would be great.”  
  
“We could take the abominable snowman in a cage match, right?” Scott mutters to Isaac. “He’s made of snow. We should just _melt_ him.”  
  
Lydia makes a strangled noise and Isaac pushes Scott out of the room.  
  
They’re all gone as quickly as they arrived and John is left staring at the door of his house, as opposed to his office, and wondering where his life went so far wrong.  
  
“No one answered my question,” he says. “ _Why_ is there a yeti?”  
  
Predictably, there is no answer.  
  
~  
  
Unfortunately, werewolf senses don’t stand up as well against snow as everyone had hoped.  
  
Boyd’s birthday is not free of the mess of snow and blood that the New Year has thus far been. He gets a bunch of broken ribs and a dunk in the mostly frozen lake as a gift from the yeti, but Derek _does_ make him an upside down pineapple cake.  
  
John’s birthday four days later also follows the trend although, thankfully, he escapes the same kind of gifts that Boyd received from the yeti.  
  
His birthday gift involves flare guns and some gratuitous explosions courtesy of Lydia and Stiles instead. Scott is unbearably smug about the success of the flare guns and there are is enough blood involved that no one can’t bring themselves to eat the raspberry slice Chris made for the occasion.  
  
All things considered, John thinks, it ends up far from a boring birthday. Stiles magnanimously allows the consumption of a bottle of whiskey that he shares with Chris and Melissa while they talk about which bad decisions in their past led them to this particular moment.  
  
~  
  
A few days after the yeti is dealt with the snow starts to melt and John and Melissa have started giving Chris oddly knowing looks.  
  
 _Meet me at the south gate in 20?_ he texts to Derek.  
  
Derek is leaning against the gate when Chris gets there.  
  
“You smell worried,” he says and pushes up off the gate, eyebrows furrowed in a frown. He looks Chris up and down worriedly and steps close to brush his thumb across the side of his neck. “Are you okay?”  
  
“We aren’t going to be able to keep this under wraps for long,” Chris says even as his pulse jumps at the contact and he steps in closer. He’s caught a little off guard by how easily his arms slide around Derek. “I think we need to think about how to break it to them.”  
  
Derek noses along the bump of his jaw and exhales. “Yeah.” He sighs. “Can we think about that later?”  
  
Chris really intends to say no, that they need to handle it now, but Derek’s hands are smooth and warm when they slide under the hem of his sweater and he forgets.  
  
~  
  
Derek and Chris take a _lot_ of showers in January.  
  
 **February 2013**  
  
Lydia’s phone starts buzzing when she and Allison are halfway through their group project for English.  
  
“Is Derek over there?” Cora asks when Lydia answers the phone.  
  
“Cora wants to know if anyone knows where Derek is, she says he was acting shifty,” Lydia says to the living room in general when she reaches the bottom of the stairs.  
  
“It’s game week,” Chris says without looking away from the television. “He’ll be down at the community centre.”  
  
“Game week?” Allison asks, incredulous, as everyone in the room stares at him.  
  
He blinks, noticing the sudden tension in the air, and looks over at her. “The social basketball league?” he says. “They have a game this afternoon so he’s probably there already.” He looks back at the television but there is the faintest hint of a flush in his cheeks suddenly.  
  
Lydia is looking at him from the bottom of the stairs with narrowed eyes.  
  
“I didn’t know Derek played basketball,” Isaac says and he’s also staring at Chris with narrowed eyes.  
  
“I’ll call Cora and tell her,” Lydia says and gives Allison a significant glance. “We’ll talk later.”  
  
Allison nods before going back to staring at Chris. He straightens a little, obviously aware of the weight of both Allison and Isaac’s eyes, but doesn’t look away from the television. The flush deepens slightly.  
  
Lydia heads for the front door and hits the speed dial for Cora as she goes.  
  
“Derek’s fine,” she says as soon as Cora picks up and opens her car door, phone between her ear and shoulder, and puts her handbag on the passenger seat. “He’s just being an actual person and doing things. We need to talk though, meet me at mine?”  
  
“Be there in five,” Cora agrees and hangs up.  
  
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Lydia says to herself as she turns her key in the ignition. She wonders whether Cora’s glee at being _right_ will cancel out the imminent breakdown about the fact that Lydia’s pretty sure Chris and Derek are already past friendship.  
  
~  
  
Cora feels the blood drain from her face when Lydia perches on her lap and smiles the smile she has for when she knows Cora isn’t going to like what she says.  
  
“You may not have been completely wrong about Chris and Derek,” she says without preamble. “We don’t really have confirmation but I’m quite sure you were actually completely right.”  
  
Cora blinks and very carefully slides out from under Lydia. “Explain.” Dread settles in her gut.  
  
Lydia grabs for her hands and Cora is startled enough that she manages to get a solid grip on them. “Chris seems to be closer to Derek than we assumed. He knew where he was this afternoon straight away and he got a bit flustered when we asked him how he knew.”  
  
“I knew there was a reason Derek was showering so often,” Cora mumbles, mostly to herself, and her hands go limp in Lydia’s. “He’s been hiding it.”  
  
“Hey,” Lydia says and she tightens her grip because she can see the fire dancing behind Cora’s eyes and hates herself, and Derek a little, for putting that there. “It’s okay.”  
  
~  
  
Derek steps out of the kitchen as Cora and Lydia let themselves in and immediately notices the rapid beating of his sister’s heart and the anxiety he can smell rolling off her in waves. Lydia is tense but he’s more concerned by the rigid line of Cora’s shoulders.  
  
“Cora?” he says and her head snaps up. Her eyes are gold.  
  
He comes closer, concerned, and Lydia’s eyes widen. She mouths “ _Chris_ ” before backing away towards the stairs with her bag held in front of her tightly. Derek’s insides collapse in realisation a split second before Cora’s fist makes impact with his cheek and snaps his head to the side.  
  
Lydia flees and Derek stays still, lets Cora hit him again and snarl, before he catches her wrist near his face and growls in warning. She struggles against the grip and the red in his eyes isn’t enough. He catches her other hand and squeezes and she bares her teeth at him with a sound that has Lydia’s heartbeat, even with two doors between them, stuttering.  
  
“ _Enough_ ,” Derek says and pulls her closer.  
  
She crumples against him with a vicious, wounded sound and he feels her claws pierce the skin of his sides where she curls her hands tightly. It says everything and Derek’s entire body aches with the weight of it.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he says and knows Lydia can hear him too. “It’s okay. I’m sorry.”  
  
~  
  
“He’s not her, Cora,” Derek says quietly, later, when she has tired herself out and is slumped against his thigh where they’re tangled on the sofa. Lydia is fast asleep, curled up in the armchair, and breathing softly. The sound of her breathing had calmed Cora down better than anything Derek tried. “I’m not fifteen and I’m not hiding him for any reason except because it’s new and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”  
  
Cora’s fingers close around his knee and she squeezes. Derek takes it but he isn’t sure what it means.  
  
~  
  
“I really want to be mad,” Allison says quietly. She’s sitting in the middle of her bed and Chris, for the first time in her entire life, doesn’t know whether he can go and sit by her. “I really want to, Dad, but I wouldn’t be mad for the right reasons.”  
  
“You can be mad if that’s how you feel,” Chris says and the words feel a little hollow.  
  
Allison shakes her head slightly. “No.” Her hands are balled in her lap. “I-You deserve to be happy too, okay? If this-if Derek is what you want, if he’s what makes you happy, then I can’t be mad. I don’t like it-”  
  
Chris bites back a humourless laugh.  
  
“I don’t _like_ it,” Allison repeats and looks up with slightly teary eyes but she’s trying to smile and it breaks Chris’ heart with pride. “But I love you so I’ll deal with it.”  
  
~  
  
Derek goes overboard for Erica’s birthday and there isn’t a single one of them who doesn’t know that it’s at least partly to try and lessen the weight of the big reveal.  
  
He and Chris deliberately stay as far apart as they can within the confines of the living area in the apartment. Isaac and Scott bracket Allison at all times and Lydia spends the entire party attached to Cora’s side.  
  
“I can smell the angsting,” Cora mutters in Lydia’s ear. “Is that a new thing or were we all _blind_?”  
  
~  
  
“Are we going to talk about this?” Melissa asks before Derek gets to their next meeting. “About _when_ this happened?”  
  
“New Year’s Eve,” Chris admits and plays with the cap of his beer. “It’s still new, okay?”  
  
“So long as I don’t catch you necking in the Preserve like a pair of teenagers or traumatising any more joggers like the first time we discussed this,” John says and uses his keyring to open his own beer.  
  
“What happened to the jogger?” Derek asks from the doorway.  
  
Chris groans and drops his head onto the table as Derek takes the seat next to him.  
  
~  
  
Derek is sprawled out over the sofa, breathing easy and relaxed and heartbeat slow, when Cora stops in the doorway. “Can I borrow the car tonight?” she asks and he rolls his head lazily to look up at her with a raised eyebrow. “I’m taking Lydia out and the Camaro’s nicer than hers.”  
  
He jerks his chin towards the counter. “Keys are near the apples,” he mutters and then stretches out and onto his side with a content sigh. “If John or one of the deputies has to pull you over I will hear all about it.”  
  
Cora ignores that and pins him with a suspicious gaze that he doesn’t appear to notice. “What are _your_ plans for tonight?” she asks.  
  
She can almost sense the eyebrow raise and a sickening sense of dread settles in her gut.  
  
“Plausible deniability!” she says and flees back to her room.  
  
Derek chuckles as her door slams.  
  
 _I think we’re gonna be okay_ he texts Chris.  
  
 _We always are_. _See you at eight._  
  
~  
  
“And we thought Allison and Scott were as star-crossed as it could get,” Stiles says around a straw. The paper napkins are still folded into hearts even though Valentine’s Day is over and Cora is happily shredding hers. “I’m sorry for ever doubting you, Cora, and I swear I won’t do it again because this is even better.”  
  
His eyes are narrowed and focused on the window across the street so he doesn’t notice when Cora drops her napkin to reach for the straw, shifting just one fingernail into a claw with a gleeful glance at Lydia, and pokes a hole in the side.  
  
Milkshake starts to dribble from the puncture and Lydia tilts her head slightly. Cora waits and is rewarded, only a few seconds after she returns her hand to her lap, when Stiles’ features twist into a frown and he sucks harder on the straw. A particularly large drop of milkshake oozes out and is almost back into the glass when he looks down.  
  
“Dammit, Cora!”  
  
She doesn’t bother to respond and filches a fry from the side of Lydia’s plate instead of acknowledging him.  
  
“If you keep shouting Derek is going to realise we’re here,” Lydia says and takes a fry too. “Cora’s his sister and I get amnesty through her. You’re the one we’d sacrifice to the cause.”  
  
“I liked both of you so much more when you weren’t sleeping together,” Stiles says and stares sadly at the ruined straw. “The sex makes you insufferable.”  
  
“You mean it just makes you jealous,” Cora says and points another fry at him before eating it.  
  
“Ugh, I’m going to go find Scott,” Stiles says as he pushes the half-drunk milkshake away. “At least he makes me feel good about myself. I hope you both choke on each other’s tongues.”  
  
Cora quirks an eyebrow and slides closer to Lydia who looks like she’s disappointed in both of them.  
  
Stiles narrows his eyes. “You know what? I hope _Derek_ chokes on _Chris’_ tongue.”  
  
He’s only halfway out of the booth, flailing and panicking, when Cora dumps the milkshake over his head.  
  
~  
  
Chris takes Allison away for the weekend for her birthday. Isaac and Scott mope the entire time. Cora and Stiles tease them mercilessly.  
  
Derek gets a little antsy as well but no one is quite ready to make fun of _that_ yet.  
  
 **March 2013**  
  
Isaac bangs into Scott’s bedroom with wide eyes and his scarf askew. He looks traumatized.  
  
“You should fix your scarf,” Stiles says with narrowed eyes.  
  
“I just saw Chris and Derek,” Isaac says. “In the Camaro.” He blinks. “ _Doing_ things.”  
  
Scott starts humming and gets up to fix Isaac’s scarf while pretending he heard nothing at all.  
  
“ _In_ the Camaro?” Stiles asks. “They’re both big guys-”  
  
“Lalalalalalalalalalalaaaaaa!” Scott shouts and Isaac gets even paler.  
  
~  
  
Cora breaks into Allison and Chris’ during a free period and drags Lydia with her because Lydia knows the security codes and Lydia is developing a startling habit of not being able to say no to her.  
  
“Cora,” Lydia says patiently when Cora goes unerringly for Chris’ study. “You saw this coming. Once we listened to you all of us saw it coming. Everyone has even already had breakdowns over it.”  
  
Cora doesn’t even dignify that with a response and continues rummaging in the drawer.  
  
Lydia sighs and lets her head drop back against the wall. “What are you looking for?”  
  
“Evidence.” It comes out somewhere between a growl and a whine and Lydia finds it pathetically endearing. Cora’s back is to her so she doesn’t fight the fond smile that makes her lips twitch upwards. “Argent is up to no good and I am going to prove it before Derek falls for his bullshit completely.”  
  
“Is it really so impossible that Chris actually cares about Derek?” Lydia asks over the sound of the drawer’s contents being upended. “I know your brother’s track record in the romance department is far from glowing, to put it diplomatically, but he’s considerably less prickly these days.” She briefly considers stopping Cora from ransacking the rest of the drawers but decides against it. “Neither of them have tried to kill each other in months. You have to admit that it’s a huge improvement.”  
  
“And how many times has someone with bad intentions gotten their hooks into Derek because he has no sense of self-preservation at all?” Cora’s voice is slightly muffled. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t care that he’s a guy or that he’s older but, Lydia, he’s an Argent.”  
  
Lydia rolls her eyes. “My best friend is an Argent.”  
  
Cora straightens and turns her head slightly. There’s a hint of gold in her eyes. “A baby Argent,” she says and slams the drawer shut with excessive force. “Who is currently sleeping with two werewolves and therefore not trying to shoot my brother.”  
  
“Chris really didn’t know how twisted Kate and Gerard were,” Lydia says. She pushes up and off the wall and takes the couple of steps across to Cora. “I swear he didn’t. Here.” Cora’s hand is warm when she takes it and presses it to the bare skin closest to her heart. “Listen to me. I am sure that, whatever is going on, Chris is not planning to hurt Derek. They care about each other and don’t even pretend you can’t tell that’s true.”  
  
“Derek is dumb enough to care about everyone who isn’t blatantly trying to kill him,” Cora hisses but she doesn’t take her hand off Lydia’s chest. “And look where it got hi-”  
  
Lydia cuts her off by pressing their mouths together. Cora relaxes in increments, her posture relaxing at the first touch of lips, and the tension bleeds from her shoulders when Lydia tugs gently at her bottom lip with her teeth. When Cora’s face is buried in the curve of her neck and shoulder, hand still pressed against the swell of her chest, she shakes her head.  
  
“You werewolves and your drama,” she says and Cora growls into her skin but doesn’t move away. “You’re lucky I’m an expert at dealing with the moon kind of crazy.”  
  
“Don’t invalidate my anger,” Cora says, the words muffled, but she’s slowly slumping against Lydia anyway.  
  
~  
  
“I get birthday sex, right?” Lydia asks and stretches out slowly across the bed.  
  
Cora’s eyes zero in on the way the nightgown rides up Lydia’s thigh and gathers in the crease of her hip. Lydia smirks and props herself up on her elbows.  
  
“Mm,” Cora says and licks her lips. She can see Lydia’s pupils dilate. “I could be convinced.”  
  
 **April 2013**  
  
“Now,” Coach Finstock says seriously. “I know some of you think that April Fools’ is a good excuse to put whoopee cushions on each other’s seats or ruin Oreo cookies with toothpaste or even mess around in parked cars. I know that you think those things because you’re all screwed up with teenager hormones but I am here to tell you that that is a _bad plan_.”  
  
“This is a new one,” Stiles says, impressed despite himself. “Do you think he watched Mean Girls and we’re gonna get the lecture on chlamydia?”  
  
“Bilinski, shut the hell up and let me talk. It’s that kind of bad planning that leads to losing a testicle to frostbite,” Coach continues. “Now, Greenberg, you should go ahead because anything that lessens the chances of you reproducing is a great idea-”  
  
“Not so new,” Scott groans and lets his head fall onto the desk.  
  
Cora turns to Lydia. “How is he allowed to teach _anyone_?”  
  
“But if you have sex outside you _will_ lose a testicle!”  
  
~  
  
“Happy birthday,” Cora says, handing Stiles the oversized cupcake with the candle, and smiles widely.  
  
Stiles narrows his eyes and takes it carefully. “What did you do to the cupcake?” he asks flatly and then shoves it towards Scott’s face. “Smell. Don’t you dare lick it if it’s good.”  
  
“Cora wouldn’t compromise the integrity of a cupcake,” Isaac says helpfully. “Anything else, sure, but not a cupcake. She ate _ten_ of them this last night before Derek stepped in.”  
  
Stiles looks simultaneously impressed and suspicious. Scott looks disappointed as he takes the cupcake away from his face. “How many did you make?” he asks and starts peeling back the paper like he’s disappointed in his own lack of willpower.  
  
“A lot,” Lydia says as she sidles up to Cora. “Happy birthday. Derek said to tell you he’s making lasagne tonight and Chris made you a birthday pie so you and your dad need to come over.”  
  
Cora instantly scowls. Lydia glares and pinches her side before smiling at Stiles and towing Cora towards their own lockers. “Happy birthday. See you in English.”  
  
~  
  
“It’s been quiet,” Chris says reassuringly when he finds Derek pacing the living room mid-April. “The yeti was the last big problem. I think they might be able to see out senior year smoothly.”  
  
“Please don’t tempt the universe,” Derek says and he’s only half joking.  
  
~  
  
“We’re in!” Stiles shouts and throws the pile of papers in his hands into the air.  
  
John and Derek both shoot to their feet but Derek makes it to Cora first, one hand reaching out to curl around Lydia’s wrist and tug her towards them too, and there is a happy rumble emanating from the two werewolves by the time John wraps Stiles in a hug.  
  
“You got Berkeley?” John says and Stiles vibrates with excitement as he hugs him back.  
  
“Yes! Full ride!”  
  
“Stanford,” Lydia says happily when John looks over Stiles shoulder at her where she’s plastered against the tangle of Cora and Derek. “Both of us!”  
  
“Let’s go celebrate,” Derek says and he’s got a hand each on Cora and Lydia’s backs. “The others should have their letters too, right?”  
  
“Allison got Stanford too,” Stiles says, still bouncing on the balls of his feet a little, and glances at Cora and Lydia. “Scott and Isaac got UCSF. Haven’t seen Boyd and Erica.”  
  
“They got USC and UCLA,” Cora says and she’s leaning into Derek’s side. “I don’t think they know which one they want yet.”  
  
“Come on then,” Derek says and steers Cora and Lydia towards the door while John squeezes Stiles’ shoulder and leaves his hand there. There’s a pride in John’s eyes that is warming Derek from the inside out as well. “Whatever you all feel like eating. My treat.”  
  
~  
  
“We’re getting a memory foam mattress,” Cora says decisively. “I don’t care about the pillows but I want the memory foam mattress.”  
  
“Fine,” Lydia allows. “I want Egyptian cotton instead of bamboo cotton sheets _and_ we’re going to have a trial period with my laundry powder as well.”  
  
“Acceptable,” Cora says.  
  
“Also,” Lydia says with narrowed eyes. “Absolutely _no_ dead animals in the apartment unless they are already cleaned and butchered and go in the _fridge_.”  
  
“You’re being unreasonable,” Cora says and her eyes are wide. “Full moons!”  
  
“No. If there’s a repeat of the buck incident I am breaking up with you. Do you have any idea how much I loved those shoes you dripped dead deer all over, Cora?”  
  
~  
  
Chris sighs against Derek’s mouth, fingers tightening around his hips, when his phone starts to ring. He mouths at the curve of the younger man’s jaw and mutters “Why are we always on call again?”  
  
Derek reaches for the phone and presses it into Chris’ hand. “Make it quick,” he murmurs in his ear and rolls his hips down against Chris’ pointedly.  
  
“Not helping.” Chris’ fingers aren’t particularly steady when he hits answer.  
  
“I have three women in their eighties in the holding cells right now, Chris,” John says as soon as Chris brings the phone to his ear. “I confiscated knitting needles and a half-finished pair of baby socks from them. Do you know what they’re in for? Assault.”  
  
Chris blinks and sits up abruptly. Derek’s eyes widen in alarm and he rolls off Chris and to the side, sliding off the bed smoothly, and grabs his pants off the floor.  
  
“A five foot nothing kindergarten teacher is here for _grand theft auto_ ,” John hisses and Chris swings his body the same way Derek had gone, feet landing on the floor, while he struggles to formulate at response.  
  
“Tell him I’m coming down to the station to see if I can get anything off them,” Derek says quietly, buttoning his jeans up with one hand as he reaches for his shirt with the other, and then he’s gone.  
  
“Derek’s on his way,” Chris says and looks around for his own pants. “I’ll be just behind him.”  
  
John make an unhappy sound that reminds Chris forcibly of Stiles. “Jesus Christ,” he says and hangs up.  
  
~  
  
“Oh my god,” Cora breathes. “ _Witches_. No wonder we found nothing at Argent’s place. They’re screwing with both of them. The alpha and the hunter, Lydia, that’s right out of some messed up fairy tale.”  
  
Lydia bites her lip and breathes out. “Cora,” she says.  
  
“This explains everything,” Cora insists and drags Lydia by the hand back towards the car. “ _Everything_.”  
  
~  
  
“I might be able to track the scent of the magic,” Derek says. “If I can get at someone before the spell wears off I could probably get enough of a lock to find a trail.”  
  
“Surely a bunch of witches shouldn’t be able to hide in plain sight.” John sounds vaguely despairing. “Should they?”  
  
“They can hide in plain sight,” Chris says. He rubs the back of his neck. “Won’t be able to tell them apart from regular citizens unless they decide to start casting spells.”  
  
“Are we talking like Harry Potter sort of witches?” Melissa asks. “Or the Grimm fairytale kind?”  
  
“Closer to Grimm style than the Weasleys,” Derek says. “I’ll set up camp at the station. Start bringing in anyone who is acting erratically.”  
  
“I’ll brief the others,” Chris says. “Let’s go.”  
  
~  
  
John catches Mrs. Ramsay from the greengrocers’ just before she manages to key an obnoxiously shiny Ferrari in the main street. Derek gets enough of a scent to take he and Chris to the outskirts of town and pick up  
  
The trail leads them right through the middle of the Preserve. They’re about a mile past the lake when Derek catches a fresher trail than the one he and Chris had followed from the edge of town. He holds a hand up for Chris to stop when a low buzz starts up.  
  
It stays constant when he notices it but Chris doesn’t seem to hear anything. He nods for Chris to keep moving when it recedes and eventually the sound fades entirely. The scent, on the other hand, gets stronger the further into the Preserve they get and Derek starts to get a little dizzy with the weight of it.  
  
Another fifty yards and the sound is loud enough that Derek’s ears are ringing, on the verge of painfully, and he has to stop and shake his head to clear it. Derek can’t call out and Chris keeps going and the sound just gets even louder. Derek barely hears the first hitch in the hunter’s heartbeat over it but the scent of searing flesh is enough to have him lunging forward before Chris shouts out.  
  
His fingers are tipped with claws when they snag the fabric of Chris’ jacket and yank him back, towards Derek himself and away from whatever boundary he’s crossed, and he can hear phantom screams overlaying the constant ringing.  
  
Chris groans when he falls back against Derek, heartbeat hammering, and Derek steadies him. “Chris,” he says and the acrid smell makes it hard to breathe. “It’s okay,” he says as he takes more of his weight and shifts them both backwards and away. “You’re okay.” The front of Chris’ clothes are singed and there is heat curling off the flushed, burned, skin where it is exposed.  
  
He settles a hand on the undamaged skin at the side of Chris’ neck and his veins run thick and black with the pain from the burns. He’s still holding Chris and drawing the hurt out of him when his fangs drop, eyes flaring red, and he howls out a furious promise of retribution.  
  
The ringing gets even louder, hits a crescendo, and Derek ducks his head in a futile effort to lessen it before it dies out suddenly.  
  
~  
  
“We hit a perimeter ward of some kind,” Chris says breathlessly. Derek is still supporting him, eyes pinched and mouth tight, and he puts a steady hand over his forearm. “Derek, it’s alright, I’m okay.”  
  
 _Burns_ , he mouths at Melissa as Derek trembles against his back and Melissa nods quickly.  
  
“I’ll leave this here for you to take care of them, okay?” she says, voice gentle, and puts the battered first aid kit on the table. “I’ll come check you over first thing in the morning. Call me if you need me.”  
  
She doesn’t come close enough to touch either of them on the way out, despite the overwhelming urge to, because the odd hitched little growls coming out of Derek’s mouth every now and again don’t sound welcoming.  
  
“Hey,” Chris says when she’s gone and Derek has stopped trembling quite so badly. “Hey, how about you help me clean up?”  
  
Derek snags the first aid kit from the table almost too quickly for Chris to follow and then herds him up the stairs towards the bedroom silently.  
  
Chris falls asleep half an hour later with Derek plastered against his back and a weightless feeling in his belly. Every time he wakes up Derek is still there, breath warm and comforting against his skin, with a hand pressed somewhere in constant pain relief.  
  
 **May 2013**  
  
Allison and Derek barely let Chris out of either of their sight until Cora’s birthday.  
  
They’d tried to track the scent again, werewolves only this time, with no success. John had doubled the number of patrols through the town and no one is sure anymore whether it’s the tension hanging heavy in the air or the witches responsible for fraying tempers and out of character aggression.  
  
Cora’s birthday ends up being a fairly subdued affair.  
  
Derek drags himself away from Chris’ side to wrap Cora in a hug and press a small envelope into her hands. “Happy birthday. I’m so proud of you,” he says roughly and she hugs back with a lump in her throat.  
  
He goes back to Chris’ side a few moments later but Cora can’t be mad when she opens the envelope and a set of keys and a lease for an apartment in Palo Alto written in Derek’s handwriting falls into her hand.  
  
~  
  
“Derek,” John’s voice is shaking. “Derek, you need to get here _now_.”  
  
“Where are you?” Derek says as he grabs his keys and waves his hand at where Allison, Cora and Lydia are sitting at the coffee table with their books. Cora is looking at him with alarm.  
  
“The alley off Bayview,” John says. “God-just hurry.”  
  
“I’m coming,” Derek says and hangs up.  
  
“Stay here,” he says to the trio. “Allison, call your dad and tell him I’m helping John with something. We’ll handle this one. You just concentrate on studying. If I don’t get home before morning then good luck, okay?”  
  
Allison nods and reaches for her phone.  
  
“Stay here,” Derek says, managing a vaguely smile-like twist of his lips, and then goes.  
  
~  
  
Two deputies have vomited by the time Derek brings the Camaro to a screeching halt.  
  
“I-I’ve never seen anything like it,” John says when Derek finds him and the body.  
  
Derek could smell the magic half a block away and it’s burning his nose this close.  
  
“It was them,” he says and tries to breathe just through his mouth. “That’s an open declaration if I’ve ever seen one.”  
  
A third deputy throws up behind them and Derek flinches at the added stench. “Get him out of here but I’m going to need access to the morgue,” he says quietly to John.  
  
~  
  
“The witches did something,” Cora says as they cluster together in the cafeteria. “Derek reeked of magic and blood and looked exhausted and didn’t even bother to lie about it.”  
  
“My dad called and said he wouldn’t be home so it’s big,” Stiles adds.  
  
“Alright, so something’s happened,” Lydia says. “We have one more class before finals start.”  
  
“How about we leave _now_?” Isaac suggests. Allison pinches his side with a stern expression.  
  
“Fine,” Erica says heavily. “We get through this and then we get back and deal with the witches.”  
  
“This is going to be the longest afternoon of my life,” Boyd says.  
  
~  
  
Chris goes to the morgue with Derek. Melissa is already there, pale and tired under the fluorescent lights, and Derek squeezes her shoulder as he passes by her on his way to the table.  
  
“Mark Newton,” she says quietly. “Solicitor. John ran his sheet and prints, there’s no priors and no criminal record. Pretty stand-up guy from all accounts.”  
  
Chris swallows around the lump in his throat when he sees the body.  
  
“I’m guessing blood magic,” he says after a second and Derek snorts humourlessly.  
  
~  
  
“Cora, Scott, you’re with me,” Chris says when the teens pile through his door at the end of the day. “Derek found something. The rest of you are gonna help John see if there’s links between the other incidents.”  
  
“I’m coming with you,” Lydia says abruptly. Her eyes are slightly glazed.  
  
“Listen to her,” Cora says and grabs her hand. “We know better than to ignore her gut by now, okay, so come on. Derek probably needs our help already.”  
  
~  
  
“We should try to negotiate,” Lydia says when they find Derek waiting for them at the edge of the Preserve. He’s unsurprised to see her with the others if the nod he gives her is any indication. “I mean, they’re obviously dark witches but they’re powerful. If we can talk them into moving on first then it could be safer.”  
  
“If by negotiate you mean I’m going to tell them to get out of my territory and they’re going to go, then sure,” Derek says and his eyes are burning red already.  
  
“They killed a human,” Chris says and settles a hand on Derek’s back while he nods for Cora, Lydia and Scott to follow them. “We need to deal with them.”  
  
“So long as killing isn’t the _first_ thing we try,” Scott says and Lydia nods in agreement.  
  
“Derek’s right,” Cora says. “They killed a human in our territory. That’s not an invitation to talk, that’s a declaration of war.”  
  
“I just have a bad feeling,” Lydia says and reaches for Cora’s hand. “So we need to be careful.”  
  
~  
  
“Can you hear that?” Derek asks after the first mile. Cora and Scott nod, features twisted in confusion and irritation, and Lydia looks at Chris in question.  
  
“They’ve got wards,” he explains and takes a couple of long steps to reach her side while Cora and Scott cluster around Derek. “Last time we found them I walked right into it. It makes a sound too high for us to hear but Derek knows it now.”  
  
They make it another mile before Scott spontaneously shifts and starts growling.  
  
“Easy,” Derek says around his own fangs and he and Cora brace themselves in front of Chris and Lydia. “Scott, fall back.”  
  
There’s someone standing a few yards ahead of them and Lydia shivers when her back makes contact with a tree. Chris inches slightly ahead of her, hand resting on his gun, and Cora is bristling.  
  
“ _Finally_ ,” the nondescript looking woman says with an easy smile as she looks between Scott and Derek. “I was wondering what it would take to get you to pay us a visit after you triggered the wards.”  
  
“Go,” Derek rumbles and there’s an unspoken _it’s a trap_ underneath the word. “Go!”  
  
Cora grabs Lydia and drags Scott to her other side and hauls them across the clearing when Lydia gasps and the three of them skid to a halt.  
  
“Leave!” Derek roars and the witch laughs. Chris seems caught in place behind Derek.  
  
The sound makes goosebumps rise on his arms as Derek twists around to throw a hand towards Chris, fingers splaying out over his chest, and push him backwards. “Move!” he shouts and Chris stumbles back, eyes wide, as he pushes again. “Chris! Move!”  
  
Scott cries out a wordless warning as the witch’s eyes go a startling shade of white, her hands outstretched towards Derek’s unprotected back, and Cora sees the way Lydia’s mouth drops open. The horror on her face, the sharp inhalation like she’s going to scream, is enough for Cora to throw herself back across the clearing with Derek’s name already on her lips.  
  
All of the sound drops out of her world when she realises she isn’t going to make it, not before the energy crackling at the witch’s fingertips reaches Derek, and she can see the same realisation sinking into Chris’ features over Derek’s shoulder. Something she doesn’t recognise takes its’ place after a split second and then the hunter is lunging forward instead of away. One arm grabs onto Derek while the other lifts the gun towards the witch even as the crackling energy races across the air between them.  
  
Cora is still half a dozen steps away when the bullet lands between the eerily white eyes right as the energy slams into Derek, making impact high on his back, and he drops like a puppet with cut strings. Chris drops the gun to catch Derek before he hits the ground and the sound comes rushing back into her ears.  
  
Every instinct in her is howling to yank Derek away from Chris when she lands in a crouch next to them. She’s halfway through a snarl when Lydia plasters herself against her side, warm and familiar, and the territorial fury in her falters suddenly.  
  
“Is he okay?” Lydia asks and curls her hand around Cora’s hip. Cora breathes in deeply and focuses on the fact that she can hear Derek’s heart beating.  
  
“He’s breathing,” Chris says and settles two fingers at his exposed throat. Cora bristles a little at the sight of the weakness and the way Chris’s palm covers the vulnerable spot when he finds a pulse.  “Just knock-” He stops as Derek startles, eyes flying open, and struggles into a sitting position with a snarl. “Hey, hey, easy,” he says and slides his hand to Derek’s shoulder. “You’re okay.”  
  
Cora almost knocks Chris over as she throws her arms around Derek, burying her face in the side of his neck and closing her eyes against the burn of relieved tears, with a strangled sound. Lydia’s hand stays planted against her skin even as Chris eases his way out of the tangle of limbs and she feels one of Derek’s hands come up to cradle the back of her head.  
  
“Wh-what do you never do, Derek?” she says, muffled against his skin, as she feels his other hand splay out near Lydia’s. “What are you _never_ supposed to do?”  
  
He huffs out a sound next to her ear and rubs his cheek over her hair. “I’m alright,” he says and she can hear the truth in the words, in the steady beat of his heart and the smooth breath, but it was so very nearly a lie that she tenses against him and holds tighter.  
  
“You don’t ever turn your back,” she insists. “Ever, Derek, you don’t _ever_ turn your back on an enemy.”  
  
“Okay,” Derek agrees and she takes another deep breath, grounds herself with his heartbeat in her ears and Lydia’s palm against her skin, and holds on.  
  
~  
  
The situation devolves into an unmitigated disaster alarmingly quickly after that hostile encounter. The town is still buzzing about Mark Newton’s murder and the sheriff’s department is working overtime trying to contain the increasingly panicked citizens as more and more of them begin acting out of sorts. There are a record number of people in the holding cells for assault charges and there have been three more deaths as a result of it but they’re covering their tracks to the point where none of the wolves can catch anything.  
  
Chris and Derek are running constant patrols throughout the town during school hours and the pack find themselves on high alert as they try to find any sign of the witches in the student body.  
  
“Let’s face it,” Stiles says to everyone at the Sunday pack meeting four days after the disastrous attempt at convincing the coven to move on from Beacon Hills. “Everything evil ends up connected to our school and we’re almost done for the year. If we’re gonna find anything it’s gonna be there.”  
  
Chris and Derek share an indecipherable look. “Make sure you’re using the buddy system in classes,” Chris says. “The staff track record is less than glowing.”  
  
“Just use it whenever you can,” Derek says and the furrow between his eyebrows is deeper than normal. “Especially around the school.”  
  
~  
  
“I knew we were never gonna make it through finals without shit hitting the fan,” Erica mutters. “Do you think they’ll understand if I fail this last one and give witches as the reason?”  
  
“Probably not,” Allison says and she has dark circles under her eyes. Scott is dozing off against her shoulder and Isaac is staring blankly at the page of notes in front of him.  
  
“You smell like Adderall and an actual concentration span,” Cora grunts when Stiles drops his things on the other side of the table. Lydia doesn’t stop rubbing her shoulder absently, attention focused on her textbook, and Stiles blinks. “Go away.”  
  
“I made cheat sheets,” Boyd announces and slaps a pile of paper on the table before grabbing Erica’s hand. “We’re going to go sleep under the bleachers.”  
  
“I think I love Boyd,” Stiles says wonderingly as he reaches for the papers.  
  
~  
  
Derek drives Cora to Lydia’s when Cora bursts into his room vibrating with panic the morning after their last final. There is no answer at the door and no sign of either Lydia or her mother on the property and Cora’s heart pounds in her chest when she calls her and is met with the beeping she knows comes from the ignore button.  
  
“She declined the call,” she says dully and Derek looks up at her with wide eyes. “She never declines my calls.”  
  
Derek reaches out to squeeze the back of her neck comfortingly and she leans into the touch. “Let’s get the others,” he says and steers her back towards the car. “We’ll figure it out.”  
  
She’s still reeling enough with the sudden panic that he has to guide her into the passenger seat. As he pulls away to go around to the other side of the car she reaches out and grabs onto his hand. “They’ve got her, haven’t they?” She swallows around a lump in the back of her throat. “They’ve got Lydia, Derek, haven’t they?”  
  
“We’ll get her back even if they have,” Derek says and Cora listens to the way his heart beats as he says the words. It doesn’t falter, steady and sure, and she nods and lets his hand go.  
  
~  
  
“Stiles isn’t answering his phone either,” Scott says the second he enters the apartment. He reeks of panic and it makes Cora’s nose itch. “I called the Sheriff and he’s coming over.”  
  
“Is everyone else accounted for?” Chris asks from the kitchen.  
  
“Isaac, Erica and Boyd are on their way,” Derek says and his hand is still heavy and warm at the back of Cora’s neck. He hasn’t taken it off since she’d tried to call Lydia except for to drive back to the apartment. “Has anyone gotten in touch with Melissa?”  
  
“She’s on shift,” Allison says. “We called the hospital on the way here.”  
  
“So it looks like it’s just Lydia and Stiles,” Cora says quietly.  
  
Derek squeezes again in an attempt at comfort. “We’ll get them back,” he says.  
  
~  
  
Stiles’ fingernails are bitten to the quick and the skin under his eyes is dark when they find him in an abandoned building in the industrial district thirteen hours later. John holds him so tight that the breath leaves his lungs in a rush.  
  
“Th-there’s a body,” Stiles says over John’s shoulder and his eyes are bloodshot. “They, I don’t know what they did but Lydia called me and I don’t remember what happened. There’s a _body_ , okay, near the lake and that’s where I was before I was here. They did something to Lydia.”  
  
Cora stiffens and Derek lets the barest hint of claw pierce the skin at the back of her neck. “Hold it together,” he says and squeezes. “John, take him home. Scott, you and Erica keep watch. The rest of you are with me.”  
  
~  
  
“What did they do to Stiles?” Isaac asks as he climbs into the backseat of the Camaro and presses himself against Cora in silent comfort.  
  
“It sounds like they’ve got Lydia in some kind of thrall and used her to do the same to Stiles,” Derek says roughly. “It would only work on the humans and Lydia and Stiles are the ones with the magic sensitivity.”  
  
“We can break it, right?” Boyd asks from the passenger seat. Cora’s breath catches from the seat behind Derek’s.  
  
“We’re gonna try,” Derek agrees and guns the engine.  
  
~  
  
There are two bodies when they get to the lake. Lydia’s eyes are wide and glazed when she turns to face them and Cora snarls at the sight of the blood dotting her skirt and blouse.  
  
“Lydia,” Derek says quietly. His eyes are red.  
  
Cora takes a couple of steps closer, rumbling in her chest, and Lydia’s eyes snap to her. They’re sharp and shrewd and have a menace in them that is completely unfamiliar. Cora sucks in a shocked breath and her feet keep going, one in front of the other, independent of her mind. “Lydia,” she says and it comes out strangled. “Lydia, _no_.”  
  
“Cora,” Derek snaps. “Cora, what are you doing?”  
  
“I can’t stop,” she says and terror is making her heart pound against her ribs. Derek lunges for her and hits a ward with a sound like a gong.  
  
“Shit,” Isaac says and scrambles for Derek who is dazed and reeling on the ground. “Holy shit.”  
  
“Lydia,” Cora says, pleading and desperate, as she keeps stumbling towards the other girl. The smell of the bodies and the blood is heady this close and she closes her eyes at the smile dancing around Lydia’s mouth. “Don’t-don’t do this!”  
  
She can’t see Derek or Boyd or Isaac but she can hear Derek roaring her name and Lydia’s and Boyd and Isaac’s howls for the others.  
  
Lydia’s fingertips press lightly against her throat when she opens her eyes and she can see the dimples in her cheeks when she smiles brightly.  
  
“Hello there, little wolf,” she says smoothly in a voice that is so far from her own and a breathless sob escapes Cora’s mouth.  
  
~  
  
“Oh my God,” Allison says when Chris brings the four-wheeler to a stop.  
  
Lydia is kneeling in front of Cora, both of them drenched in blood, and there’s a faintly visible barrier around them and the two dead bodies. Derek is running at the barrier, again and again, with vicious snarls. Boyd and Isaac are pacing uselessly, half-shifted, and Chris runs towards them.  
  
“Find something that could be holding up the ward!” Chris shouts and Allison looks around as she scrambles off the quad.  
  
“What could it look like?” she calls back and bites back nausea at the sight of Lydia leaving long gouges in Cora’s bare arms that heal only for Lydia to do the same thing again. Cora looks barely conscious and there are tear tracks visible down her cheeks even from where Allison is standing.  
  
“A ring or a pile of stones or plants or anything that looks too neat to be natural!”  
  
“I found one!” Isaac cries after a moment and she hears his howl of pain a split second later.  
  
He’s on the ground cradling his arm to his chest when she spins around and sees him next to a small mound of rocks. Chris raises his gun and fires a round into it and the barrier flares visibly before seeming to short out for a moment. Lydia jerks as though she’s been shocked and Derek howls.  
  
Cora jolts as well, looking more conscious, and Boyd yells from the side of another pile of rocks.  
  
~  
  
By the time they’ve broken the last pile Lydia is pressed against a tree and keening. Derek bolts for Cora and she slumps against him with a breathless whine. Allison runs for Lydia.  
  
“It’s okay,” Chris says softly when he reaches Allison and Lydia. “Everyone’s okay. Come on, let’s get you home.”  
  
~  
  
Cora’s hands are steady as she holds Lydia’s under the stream of warm water. “You’re okay,” she says and Lydia can feel her heartbeat against her back. “We’re all okay.”  
  
Lydia drags in a shaking breath and squeezes Cora’s fingers under the water. “I’m sorry,” she forces out past numb lips. “Cora, I’m-I’m sorry.”  
  
“Hey, enough of that,” Cora says and rubs away a smudge of her own blood from Lydia’s palm with the pad of her thumb. She uses her chin to nudge Lydia closer to the basin and leans in for a quick kiss under her ear even as her heart stumbles over a beat. Lydia tries to move away when she feels it, her scent sour with guilt and terror, and Cora doesn’t allow it as she forces her breathing to even out. “It wasn’t you. We both know that. Come on, more soap.”  
  
Lydia reaches for the soap dispenser as a sob makes her shudder. Cora presses closer in silent support and pulls her hands back under the water. She scrubs harder at the underside of her wrist with the soft cloth as Lydia’s vision blurs with tears.  
  
 **June 2013**  
  
Lydia and Stiles are still shaken when graduation day rolls around. John won’t let Stiles out of his sight for longer than a bathroom break and Lydia won’t leave Cora’s side despite the fact that sometimes she can’t bear to touch her.  
  
Her eyes are hollow and her words brittle when she gives her valedictorian speech. Stiles’ salutatorian speech feels forced, the skin under his eyes dark and his lips chapped and bitten, and John’s hand clenches so tight around Melissa’s that she can feel the delicate bones grind together.  
  
They don’t have a graduation party, afterwards, they have a graduation puppy pile.  
  
Chris and Derek and John stand guard while Melissa lets Lydia curl into her on one side and Stiles curl into her on the other as the others pile around and over them in an attempt at physical comfort.  
  
~  
  
The day after graduation Cora corners Derek and stares at him expectantly. “You’ve got a plan, don’t you? You smell of the vet’s office and the only reason you’d talk to him is for help.”  
  
Derek nods.  
  
“We might be able to pull it off,” he says after a period of silence. “Deaton says there are things we can do that the others can’t. They’re usually defensive things but he thinks he can make it into something that we could use against them. Target their magic. If we can get close enough we can use their own magic against them and trigger a defence of our own.”  
  
“If there’s even a chance then we have to take it,” Cora says and the image of Lydia splattered with her blood and wide, haunted eyes flits across her mind. It makes her bristle. “They’re not gonna stop gunning for us so we need to end it before it gets worse.”  
  
Derek looks at her. He nods eventually. “Okay.” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his eyes, and sits down. “Okay. I’ll tell Deaton to do it. Are you gonna be able to keep this from Lydia?” He looks her in the eye and his flash red. “There are so many ways it could go wrong, Cora, and they won’t let us do it alone if they know it’s happening.”  
  
“If it’s gonna save her from anything like what’s already happened then I don’t care what I have to do,” Cora says. “Are you gonna be able to keep it from Argent?”  
  
A brief snarl escapes Derek, a snap of teeth that has her ducking her head a little, and his eyes flash again. There’s more alpha in his voice than she’s ever heard him direct at one of them before and she can’t entirely suppress the whimper.  
  
“Don’t ever question what I would do for my pack, Cora.”  
  
~  
  
It takes almost a week for everything to align properly. There are two more skirmishes with the witches in the time it takes for everything to be ready. Allison spends a night in hospital with Isaac and Scott standing guard after the first one had her thrown into a tree and Stiles has a line of stitches over his collarbone after the second. It took Erica and Cora almost thirty hours to heal the burns they got that night.  
  
~  
  
Cora is redressed when she eases the sheet up and back over Lydia at five to midnight. She keeps her eyes on her sleeping face instead of getting distracted by all the bare skin and goes for the window with her heart in her throat.  
  
She wipes at her eyes as she runs towards the Argents’ and smells salt on her skin.  
  
~  
  
Derek is lying in the circle of a sleeping Chris’ arms when the silent alarm on his phone goes off at midnight. He reaches out to turn it off and feels Chris shift at his back, grunting in question, when he goes to sit up.  
  
He twists, feeling the sense of unease in his stomach swell, and leans down to kiss Chris. Cora’s heartbeat is steady outside and he breathes out. “S’alright,” he murmurs. “Just gonna go run a patrol with Cora. Go back to sleep.”  
  
Chris kisses him back, slow and lazy, with a hand reaching to rub at the back of his neck. “Be careful,” he says sleepily. “An’ hurry back.”  
  
Derek kisses him again, hopes that it will be enough if everything goes wrong, and lets his palm settle on the bare skin over the other’s man’s heart for a second. “I’ll try,” he says, dresses quickly, and goes before all the other words he wants to say spill out.  
  
~  
  
Cora pats her pocket when they get out of the Camaro, ignoring the itch at having the combination of herbs so close to her own skin, and glances up at Derek.  
  
“This is an awful plan,” he says and the red bleeds into his eyes. In the pre-dawn darkness it makes the planes of his face harsh and stark. “A really awful plan and I know all about awful plans.” His shift rolls down his body smoothly and he stretches out but he stays there, by her side, and she feels oddly reassured. Cora can feel the echo of it making her own blood sing and crouches at his side.  
  
“I don’t see any other options,” she says, voice thick and low around her fangs, and Derek rumbles his agreement.  “They’ll know. If it doesn’t work they’ll know and they can run.”  
  
“If it doesn’t work I want _you_ to run,” he says and clamps his hand over the nape of her neck in silent command. “You let me hold them up, Cora, and you take the pack and run. Run until you’re safe.”  
  
She whines in the back of her throat but doesn’t fight against his hold as much as she wants to, doesn’t say that she couldn’t run without him, because when she looks up at him the set of his jaw reminds her of their mother. She leans into his hand and tilts her head to the side in the closest thing to deference she can manage.  
  
He squeezes and then brushes the back of his hand over her bared throat. “Come on,” he says and urges her to her feet. “It’s time.”  
  
Cora desperately wants to howl, wants to hear the pack howl back, but she bites it back and sprints after Derek.  
  
~  
  
Lydia wakes up a little before six with blood under her fingernails and a dry mouth. Her bed is a mess, the glass photo frame from her bedside table shattered and spotted with blood over the duvet, and the temperature seems to drop when she realises that Cora isn’t back.  
  
Her fingers are numb and slippery with blood from her torn fingernails and battered knuckles as she reaches for her cell and hits the speed dial for Derek. She gets his voicemail immediately and her stomach tightens. She presses the next speed dial.  
  
“Lydia?” Stiles answers on the second ring and his voice is alert despite the hour.  
  
“I think Cora and Derek are in trouble,” she says and her voice cracks. She swallows to get rid of the burning, dry feeling in her throat. It doesn’t work. “S-something’s wrong.”  
  
“Stay where you are,” Stiles says immediately. “Call Allison. We’ll come get you.”  
  
~  
  
Allison bursts into Chris’ room and he’s already halfway up and across the room when she opens her mouth. “Lydia says something’s wrong. Cora and Derek never came back from patrol.”  
  
Chris swears as his stomach hits the vicinity of his knees when he catches sight of the clock. “Come on,” she says. “Stiles and his dad are getting Lydia, Isaac’s getting Boyd and Erica and Scott’s waiting outside.”  
  
It isn’t until they’re outside, Chris turning the key in the ignition of the SUV, that he realises the Henley he’d dragged on in a panic isn’t his. His knuckles go white around the steering wheel and Scott’s hand lands on his shoulder from the backseat.  
  
“We’ll find them,” Scott says and Allison’s fingers curl around his wrist as well.  
  
~  
  
“You _what_?” John shouts.  
  
Alan looks supremely calm and Chris wants to break his face with his fist.  
  
“I advised Alpha Hale as I am bound to,” he says. “There are things that born werewolves are capable of that those who are bitten are not-”  
  
“You _gave_ them this stupid plan?” Stiles actually lunges towards him but the examination table is in the way and a growling Scott catches him by the back of his shirt before he tries to crawl over it.  
  
“Tell us exactly what they plan to do, how they plan to do it, and what we need to know to end this,” Allison says calmly. Chris feels like crawling out of his skin.  
  
“Before it’s too late,” Lydia says and the room falls silent. “We need to hurry.”  
  
There’s a certainty in her voice that even Alan looks a little shaken by.  
  
~  
  
“No, no, no, no,” Cora chants under her breath when the wards spring to life ten yards ahead. She was supposed to be able to sense them before that happened. She was supposed to be on the other side of them when it happened.  
  
Derek’s furious roar, from where he _is_ on the other side of them, is muffled by the wards. Cora can’t see or sense him through them but she howls back, desperate and scared, because this wasn’t a contingency they planned for. The hex bag is starting to burn against her thigh and the panic is making her skin crawl. She looks around and sees flames in the distance.  
  
The air almost vibrates with Derek’s answering howl, an indisputable order to flee, and she runs back towards the town. She doesn’t even make it half a mile, tears and rage burning her eyes, when the acrid scent of magic fills her nose and her world goes dark.  
  
~  
  
“I don’t understand how they were supposed to get _out_ ,” Stiles says to John and his voice is strained. “I get how they got in and what they’re doing but whoever was in the middle was never gonna outrun it. There’s no time delay on it, they set it off and it goes, so how were they supposed to get out, Dad?”  
  
“They weren’t. That’s what the hex bags are for,” Lydia says and flexes her bandaged fingers. “Deaton says they’re set to react to a specific trigger. They’d be some sort of shield.”  
  
“That is the worst plan I’ve ever heard of,” John says and presses his foot down on the accelerator a little more. “I want to ground them both.”  
  
~  
  
Chris shoves a shotgun into Allison’s hands and then shares a look over her head with John.  
  
The Sheriff nods. “I want you kids to promise us that you’ll run if we say so,” John says and Chris meets Allison’s eyes steadily when she looks at him in disbelief. “No arguments. I don’t care whether you feel like any of you should be second in command when Derek isn’t here, the fact is that we’re the ones who are giving the orders. If we say run you _run_.”  
  
“I’m not going anywhere without Cora,” Lydia says and she adjusts her grip on the gun that John had given her when they left the cars. She starts off towards the tree-dotted crest in the distance determinedly and Scott and Stiles take off after her. Allison is just behind them and the knot of dread in Chris’ stomach tightens a little more as Boyd, Erica and Isaac follow.  
  
He and John are left running to keep up and it feels more familiar than he cares to admit.  
  
~  
  
Cora snaps back to consciousness with a snarl, immediately reacting to the burn of wolfsbane ropes around her wrists, and hears a cold laugh in response. Everything is dark, fabric tied around her eyes, and she can still smell the same acrid magic residue.  
  
“Magic is not for little wolves to play with,” the laughing voice says and then the scent changes from magic to burning flesh and Cora screams.  
  
~  
  
They cross into the coven’s territory in the late morning without realising it until Scott and Boyd are leaping at each other, snarling and snapping and slashing, and Erica tips her head back and howls. Isaac goes rigidly still, eyes a burning gold, and John palms his gun instinctively.  
  
Erica flings herself to the ground suddenly and Isaac takes off at a sprint towards the tree line. Boyd roars and Scott drops to all fours and bellows back. Chris’ heart hammers in his chest until Allison hisses next to him and points at an inconspicuous looking cluster of rocks.  
  
“It’s like the ones we saw around the lake!” she says and Chris fires a couple of rounds into the cluster of stones. It disrupts it enough that Scott and Boyd stop for the briefest second, looking confused, before launching themselves at each other again.  
  
“It’s a compulsion!” Stiles shouts and swings his bat right into another little tower of stones. “Get the cairns down!”  
  
“Go, go!” Chris says and pushes John and Allison forward. Lydia is already running towards the third and swinging her own bat. “Knock them down quickly!”  
  
~  
  
“Leave,” Derek pants. His fangs pierce his own lip as the knife parts his skin and muscle like butter. “Get-get out of my territory be-before I tear your throat out!”  
  
“We quite like it here, Alpha Hale,” the witch with the knife says. “I think we’d stay just to spite you after the three deaths you’ve caused us but do continue the threats if you like. Being able to tell your pack that their alpha was a belligerent fool until the very end will feel wonderful.”  
  
He snarls and the witch makes a disapproving sound before flicking her wrist. The last thing Derek hears, as the weight of the fallen tree makes impact with the right side of his body and his consciousness blurs, is the sound of his pack’s howls.  
  
The last thing he sees is the flash of panic across the witch’s face and he’s satisfied when his world goes dark.  
  
~  
  
“I can smell Cora!” Scott shouts and the entire pack breaks into howls.  
  
“Just Cora?” Chris asks and Allison grips his arm as Boyd nods. “Okay. Go.”  
  
Erica and Isaac hesitate. “Go,” Chris repeats. “One of you stay just in case but if you can smell Cora then go get her.”  
  
“I’m staying,” Boyd says.  
  
“John, Lydia, go with them,” Chris says and palms his gun. “Allison, Boyd, with me.”  
  
~  
  
Cora’s half-conscious when she hears howls and the sound of pounding feet. She struggles against the rope and howls back because sudden fear from the two witches hangs heavy in the air and it makes her instincts scream with bloodlust. Something hits her in the side, the point of impact burning, and her howl stutters into a cry of pain.  
  
Lydia’s scream pierces through the howls and it sounds like vengeance. The sound of blood hitting the ground amidst snarls and growls makes her struggle against the rope all over again. She can hear one of the heartbeats, frantic with terror, stop suddenly. Lydia’s next scream, angry and fierce, happens almost exactly as the second witch’s heart pounds for the last time.  
  
The rope around her wrists burns and then splits and Cora pushes herself to her knees with the frantic voices of most of the pack ringing in her ears. Lydia’s warm hands are framing her cheeks and her worried face is blurred and taking up most of her vision. She blinks slowly until her vision clears a little and Lydia looks relieved.  
  
“Easy, Cora, stay there,” she says softly, like she knows that everything is way too loud at that moment, and her thumbs brush over Cora’s cheeks. “Just relax for a minute, okay? You need to let your healing kick in.”  
  
The sound Cora makes is supposed to be Lydia’s name but comes out more like a gurgle. Lydia laughs, choked up and thick with tears, and presses their foreheads together.  
  
“You stupid werewolf,” she breathes out and holds Cora tighter.  
  
“D-Derek,” she rasps. “Did-did you find h-”  
  
“Not yet,” Lydia says and cradles her face in her hands. She kisses her temple and guides Cora’s face down into the curve of her neck. Cora can feel the uneven rhythm of Lydia’s heart and smell her fear even over the stench of blood and magic.  
  
~  
  
“They got Cora,” Boyd says suddenly and Chris nods. “Erica and Scott are going back for the cars.”  
  
“Good,” he says and rubs his thumb over the butt of his gun. “That’s good. Have you got anything on Derek?”  
  
“This way,” Allison says and takes off running. “I can see another ward, look!”  
  
Chris launches himself after her and Boyd outpaces them in a heartbeat.  
  
The clearing is a couple hundred yards away and Boyd is hovering over the first pile of stones anchoring the ward when Allison and Chris get there.  
  
Boyd howls, long and loud, and Chris can’t hear anything over the pounding of his heart when he sees the fallen tree and the blood.  
  
“Derek!” he shouts and Allison kicks over the mound. Boyd launches himself at the barrier the second it falters and gets through. Chris doesn’t even register the blast of magic the werewolf dodges and pounces on the witch before she even gets a chance to prepare another spell.  
  
Allison finds the other cairn and takes it down and Chris throws himself across the line the second the ward drops.  
  
Boyd is tearing at the second witch and Chris goes to his knees beside the tree. The fabric at his knees goes warm and damp with blood and he cranes his head to see Derek. The sight makes his heart lurch to a stop in his chest.  
  
“Call the others and tell them to _hurry_!” he bellows.  
  
~  
  
“Stay with me,” Chris says and his voice is steady despite the fact that his breathing is ragged. “Come on, Derek, stay with me. We’re gonna help you but you have to hold on, okay?”  
  
There is a slow trickle of blood from the corner of Derek’s mouth and his eyes are fluttering between open and closed. There is a cut still bleeding high on his cheek, not healing at all, and Chris feels like every glimpse he catches of Derek’s clouded eyes is a knife between his ribs. “Don’t let it end this way,” he breathes out around a sudden lump in his throat. “Don’t you leave me, not now, not like this.”  
  
Derek shudders and exhales, guttural and wet and barely audible over the rumble of the car engine, and Chris can see the thin film of red covering his lips. His own heartbeat stutters and he curls further over Derek as though shielding him from something he doesn’t think he’s going to be able to fight off. When he draws back Derek’s eyes are completely closed and the tension has drained out of his face. Chris chokes out a denial.  
  
“No, no, don’t even think about it,” he says and presses down harder because all he can think to do is try to stop the bleeding. The blood is hot but his hands are cold, slipping against the skin and the jagged edges of the wound, and he swallows back a desperate sound as tears start pouring down his cheeks. “Plea-please, Derek, just stay with me.”  
  
~  
  
“What did they do?” Allison breathes out as she ties off the line of stitches across Isaac’s ribs carefully. As soon as she lets go of the thread her fingers begin to tremble. “Why are none of you healing properly?”  
  
Stiles snorts and it turns into a coughing fit. “F-fucking witches!”  
  
“Will you sit still and stay quiet?” Lydia snaps at him from where she is gently wiping around the edges of the cut running down the side of Cora’s face. Cora’s eyes flutter a bit and she leans into Lydia’s hands. “You know better.”  
  
Scott detours from his regular pacing route to push Stiles back down onto the sofa before going back to the straight line across the room.  
  
~  
  
Chris presses their tangled fingers against his forehead and breathes in. “Derek,” he says. “Please. It’s been two days, you’ve got to start healing.”  
  
Derek doesn’t stir and Chris pulls back and kisses the back of his hand. He reaches for the soft, damp cloth on the bedside with his free hand and wipes it along Derek’s cheek.  
  
When he falls asleep the cloth is still clutched in his fist and their hands are tucked under his chin.  
  
Cora comes in a little after sunset and sits on the other side of the bed with Derek’s other hand held loosely in hers. She stays until Lydia comes and leads her back to her own bed.  
  
~  
  
“I was waiting until you were properly healed to have this conversation.”  
  
Cora suppresses a wince at the fury in Lydia’s eyes and just nods.  
  
“If I had to scream for you I would bring you back and kill you myself.” Her voice is steady and quiet. “If you-if you ever do something that stupid again, Cora, I swear-”  
  
Cora cradles the sides of her face and swallows the next words in a kiss. Lydia’s fingertips dig into her upper arms, desperate and sharp, and she makes a broken sound against Cora’s lips. “I’m okay,” Cora breathes and presses their foreheads together tightly. “I’m okay, I promise. You didn’t have to scream for any of us.”  
  
Lydia’s nails almost break skin and she goes rigid as she pulls away. “You basically went on a suicide mission.” She draws in a breath and her voice turns cold. “You didn’t say anything, you just went and basically threw yourselves at the magical equivalent of a nuclear weapon, Cora. How is that ever going to be okay, how am I ever supposed to trust you-”  
  
“We needed to end it. We needed to finish it. Look what they did to you, Lydia, they tried to put our blood on your hands and I couldn’t-” Cora swallows, Lydia’s eyes bright with anger, and she blinks away the sting of tears, “I couldn’t not do anything! They were going to-they wanted to kill us all, they wanted us all dead, and they weren’t going to stop coming until we were done.”  
  
“And you and Derek thought dying for the cause and leaving us to fight the rest of the fight without you was a great plan?” Lydia looks more incredulous than angry. “We need you. How do you not get that? Do you not care that _I_ need you?”  
  
“I-I…” Cora swallows again. Lydia makes a strangled sound of frustration and buries her face in Cora’s neck. It barely takes a second for the hot tears to reach Cora’s skin and her arms tighten around Lydia.  
  
~  
  
“He’s gonna be okay,” Melissa says and touches Chris’ elbow with a tired smile. It’s been six days and every hour of it is written in the bruised looking skin under their eyes and the downward curve of their mouths. “I want to leave the drip in for a little while, his body will push it out when it’s done, but it looks like the wounds are starting to close over and his vitals are holding steady. I’m pretty sure the worst of it is over.”  
  
Chris nods but doesn’t say anything, throat dry and tight with long hours of uncertainty and fear, and just squeezes her hand blindly in gratitude. Her features soften as she squeezes back. “It’s okay, you know,” she says and Chris looks up at her in confusion.  
  
“It’s okay,” she repeats and squeezes his hand again. “It’s okay that you were scared. We were all scared.”  
  
~  
  
“Happy birthday, Dad,” Allison says and presses a kiss to his cheek. She touches Derek’s too, brushes her fingertips over the skin lightly, and Chris’ breath hitches. “We’ll celebrate when he wakes up, okay?”  
  
He nods and catches her hand with his, not sure he can find words, to squeeze it. She presses another kiss to his temple and squeezes back. “Love you. I’ll come back tomorrow.”  
  
~  
  
Chris brushes a thumb across the inside of Derek’s wrist slowly, the skin soft and warm.  
  
His eyelashes flutter and Chris lurches forward unconsciously. “Derek?”  
  
Chris sees a familiar green for the first time in over a week as Derek blinks at him and it finally feels like he can breathe again.  
  
 **July 2013**  
  
“You’re banned from planning anything ever again,” Lydia murmurs into Cora’s shoulder. “I’m not even letting you decorate. I’m serious.”  
  
“Okay,” Cora says and presses her face against Lydia’s hair. “Okay, I can’t argue with that.”  
  
“Good, you’re not allowed to argue either.” Lydia digs her fingertips into her arm and sniffles a little. “Just stay like this forever, okay?”  
  
“Okay,” Cora agrees and wriggles a little until their noses are touching. “I love you.”  
  
Lydia heart skips a beat, eyes wide, and she kisses Cora until they’re breathless.  
  
~  
  
Cora curls up next to Derek a couple of days after the last of the ill-effects from the magic fade. He still doesn’t smell right, despite the fact that the pack have spent most of the last two weeks curled around him, and Cora rubs her cheek against his shoulder.  
  
“Glad you’re okay,” she says and Derek rubs his own cheek over her hair.  
  
“I’m glad you’re okay too,” he says. “It… it was close.”  
  
She nods and then buries her face in his neck and lets him hold her.  
  
~  
  
“If we _never_ have to deal with witches ever again it will be too soon,” Stiles says fervently when Melissa tells him his ribs look like they’re healing up well.  
  
Erica makes a derisive sound from across the room. “You’re telling me. I’m going to need therapy before I can even handle watching the Harry Potter movies again.”  
  
“How about we put a complete ban on magic for a while?” Isaac suggests. “Yes? Excellent.”  
  
~  
  
It takes Chris almost a month all up before he can even look at Derek without feeling his blood on his skin and the terrifying stillness underneath his hands. Once he wakes up and Chris can feel anything but terror again it takes him almost three weeks to stop being so angry that they had been so close to being too late.  
  
Derek has been treating him like spun glass, guilty and tentative, and Chris finally takes him by the hand and hauls him into the study. He doesn’t let go of his hand and just waits for the tension to slowly ease.  
  
“I get why you did it,” Chris says eventually and Derek hasn’t looked up from their joined hands yet. “I do. I understand. Wanting to protect everyone makes you do stupid things sometimes and you weren’t going to let your sister go off alone.” He laughs a little. “If it had been Allison I would have done exactly the same thing. Our families breed some pretty headstrong women and all we can do is try and watch their backs.”  
  
Derek breathes out as he looks up. “She and Laura were always the ones that got me into trouble.”  
  
Chris nods and leans in to kiss him. “I know,” he says against his mouth and moves to cradle his face. “You’re _never_ allowed to plan anything ever again.”  
  
 **August 2013**  
  
“Cora,” Chris says in August. “Can we talk?”  
  
Derek looks at Cora, a faint note of pleading in his eyes, and she nods once. Lydia and Isaac grab Allison and propel her up the stairs. Derek rubs his thumb over the side of Chris’ neck and then over Cora’s shoulder on his way out the front door.  
  
“He’s out of range,” she says shortly when she can’t hear the rumble of the Camaro’s engine anymore.  
  
“I love your brother,” Chris says without preamble and his heart doesn’t waver. “I made my choice before that happened, though, when Allison decided we needed a new code to live by. We chose pack. We chose _you_.”  
  
Cora tilts her head and says nothing. Chris’ words ring true and she knows she’s going to have to accept them eventually. She isn’t ready to admit to herself that she already had, that she’d accepted it when she saw him curled over Derek in the backseat of an SUV with tears streaming down his face, and that she already knows he’s _pack_.  
  
“So where does this leave us?” Chris asks and he hasn’t dropped his eyes. “You’ve heard my side of the story and I’m sure you’ve already spoken to Derek. I know your support is important to him.”  
  
Cora stares at him for another long moment. “You’re going to come over and play Monopoly with Derek, Lydia and I,” she says finally. “We’re going to start a new tradition.”  
  
Chris looks a little surprised at that and Cora smiles, bright and honest, when he says “I think I can handle that.”  
  
She can hear Isaac laughing upstairs, Allison’s confused “What’s so funny?” and her smile grows wider. The expression on Chris’ face turns a little wary and Cora can’t wait to make him regret those words.  
  
“We’ll see about that,” she says and motions for him to head towards the front door. He goes, posture a little reminiscent of someone walking over possible landmines, and warm satisfaction settles in her belly. “We’ll see.”


End file.
